Abigail

I don't know how long I've been here.

Not that there's much of a here. It's just an emptiness.

I'm not even scared anymore. I just...float. I'm not anything. Just a tiny piece of existence in this endless space of nothing.

Nothing.

Nothing.

Nothing.

Abigail.

Nothing?

Abigail.

Abigail, wake up.

I can't. There's nothing to wake up from.

Please wake up. They want...they want to pull the plug. It's been a year.

The plug?

But I know you're in there somewhere, and I know that you were having a hard time and I should have paid more attention...but I can help you now. Just...wake up.

How? How do I wake up?

Just...try, sweetheart.

Try.

Try to wake up.

A steady beeping, a swoosh every few seconds.

Something is in my throat. What's in my throat? It's uncomfortable. I want it out but I can't move. I try so hard to lift my hand.

I hear a gasp.

"Abi?!"

A voice. A familiar voice.

Mom?

Mom!

"Abigail!"

Open your eyes. Open your eyes.

Ah, that's bright. That's really bright. I close my eyes.

Wait. I'm alive.

Mom's warm hand vanishes from mine. I hear footsteps and rustling fabric and commanding voices.

Whatever is in my throat is being pulled out, and it's uncomfortable and making me feel like I'm going to puke. I gag as the last of it slides past my lips.

Say something.

"Mmm...Mom?"

"Abigail!"

I open my eyes again. Not a bright, because there's a head blocking the light. My mom's face is gazing at me.

"I'm...alive..."

"Yes, sweetie, you're alive, and thank God for that."

I am alive. I didn't die a year ago.

So why does everyone think I'm dead?