random short stories

Conciousness

She laid motionlessly on a mattress that anyone with experience knew was uncomfortable. With a night gown that would hang loosely around her shoulders if she ever got the strength to stand. If she was aware how many hours ticked by, slowly turning into days and weeks, years, I wonder if she would sit up and start spouting about a plan she came up within the few moments her body was conscious. I come to a building known for death as well as healing. I walk the halls that reek of cleaning supplies and have only white corridors and bright lights. I stay in hopes she will awaken even so many years later. Everyone who once came to leave flowers lost faith in her strength despite her ability to stay alive this long. I wonder, that if she were to awaken, how it would work out, for the clock didn't stop to give her the time of day and instead changed every moment she might've had the chance to ask. Every person she may have known merely the face of has moved on and molded their life without her. I wonder, if she were to wake up, would she have the courage to continue being awake or jump off a height that would promise her endless sleep. But any wonders I could've conjured would never become reality. This was a proven fact as the line that had a faint beat of an organ in her chest. And suddenly the faint beep became the constant scream of a flat line.