1
The colors around me are gone. My voice is gone. My control is gone. Everything is gone. No, not everything. I am still here. I can hear, smell, and feel. I’ve just lost control of my body.
“Yes ma’am, she can probably hear us. I need you to remember, she’s not dead, just in a coma.” A calm voice is explaining someone’s state to a loved one. Who’s in this coma?
“Is she going to be alright?” My mother’s voice. Am I in the coma? Is this the state I’ve slipped into? But if so, then how? There are no memories in my mind.
“We don’t know yet. All we can do is wait.”
Sobbing comes from my mother.
2
As time passes, I think about what happened and what would happen to me, but then suddenly the creaking of door notifies me that someone is entering the room. This person walks over and sits down on the stool beside the bed and sighs. I then recognize him as my father.
“Hi Cyra, how you doing?” He says slowly. “I heard what happened. The doctors told me that you might be able to hear me so I came over to talk to you. To be honest, we don’t know if you’ll survive. But no matter what happens, I want you to know that your mother and I both love you. The time you’ve been with us has been wonderful, and we would trade places with you in a heartbeat, but life hasn’t given us that opportunity. Anyways, I should get going now. Bye Cyra.”
Although I can’t open my eyes to see, I know that there are tears rolling down his face.
3
Now there seems to be a gathering of sorts. Just from the murmurs drifting around the room, I can tell that a few doctors and my parents are all in the room. I can make out a few words, but not many.
“I think we should let her go,” a voice that belongs to my mother states. “She’s suffered enough already. And is there really a chance that she will come back?”
“Well, are you really going to give up? She hasn’t given up!” My father then exclaims.
“Be realistic Steve! She’s been like this for weeks! I know you’re having trouble accepting this, but our daughter is gone.” My mother then yells.
“I think we should step outside into the hallway for this conversation,” says one of the doctors, “she might be able to hear us.”
After shuffling and the dull thump of the closing door, silence fills the room. Will I have to leave? Or will there be a miracle? No, this is it. I’m not coming back, I can feel it. This is the end of my story, but not the end of my ripple. My parents will always remember me. So will my friends. I will have a place in their hearts, a place that will forever always be reserved for me. And as long as they remember me, I’ll be okay.