Board Thread:Writer's Workshop/@comment-30229327-20161015042641

This is my first time doing something like this, and my story got deleted. I want to know what I did wrong, and to learn not to do them again. Well, here it is.

It hurts… The never stopping ringing in my ears and the pulsating ache throbbing from my head. I woke up feeling these things. It’s dark. All I could see is the surrounding void of darkness around me. The best I could make out in my situation is that I’m laying down on a bed, and yet I don’t remember how I got here. It hurts to much to even think. The vague scent of sickness and mortality, and the steady beeping beside me can only explain one thing. I’m in a hospital. And the darkness is only the cause of my eyelids being shut. But I couldn’t move a muscle. Suddenly memories began to pop out one after the other flooding me with graphic scenes I do not wish to see. I remember vaguely of what happened, but the most I could get out was the sound of metal on metal, and a loud crash echoing from the inside of my mind. Then I saw myself flung onto the rigged road, facing my unconscious mother. We were in a car accident. Just the image of my mother like that upsets me. I want to go look for her, and hug onto her tight knowing that she’s okay. But I can’t. Soon my time in that hospital bed turned into days, then to long agitating weeks. Sometimes men come into my room, who I expected to be doctors, and check on me. I couldn’t talk to them. Though, I really hoped they would fix me somehow every time they came. But when they do come, all they do was poke, scribble, whisper, and leave. They would occasionally open my eye lids (which felt amazing) and point a bright light at it. I never realized having your eyes shut for a long time and finally opening them felt so good. I craved more of it, like an unhealthy addiction, but it only lasted for a few seconds. They never really do anything to me other than that, and I got frustrated really quick. And yet I can’t do a single thing about it. I don’t know what’s wrong with me, and I hate it so much. Its lonely and dark, and all I want to see is my mom one more time. That is all I really want. The more my childish-like desires overtake me, the faster time began to fly. Weeks soon turned into months laying in that bed. I don’t know if I was going crazy, but I started to here faint voices. Not from the doctors, but someone else. Frequently, when I knew I was all alone, whispers tickled my right ear to the left, but I would barely make out what it was saying. I couldn’t move, but every inch of my body wanted to get away from that voice as far as possible. There was something off about it. Not only it comes when I’m alone, but its spine-chilling cool breath from it felt like death itself. Almost like some demon is toying my unconscious body. The inaudible voices started to come every day, and there was no way to stop them. For a moment I wanted to die in that bed, so I can get away from those voices. But then one day, I heard the door open. I felt the presence of someone, but not the doctors. I heard that sweet voice that I have forgotten for a long time. “Hey there, been a while, huh?” the sweet voice said. I soon come to realize that the voice was my mother’s. I wanted to jump on her and tell her how much I have missed her and to get me away from this place, but I can’t. But to even have my mother with me is good enough to make me happy. She came to my room every day after that. She talks about how the family was doing, and they hoped for the day that I will finally get out the hospital. She would read my favorite books to me sometimes, even though I already read them. I would sometimes drift asleep from my mom reading, even though my eyes were already shut closed. The eerie voices never came ever since my mom started to visit me. I was happy. But that soon came to an end really quick. My mother came one day, but she wasn’t speaking to me. Instead I heard her silently sobbing. I disparately wanted to cling on her, but I couldn’t. I still don’t know what is wrong with me, but I wanted to know why my mom was so upset. Then I heard her shaken voice, and my entire heart fell when I heard it. “Please, wake up!” she yelled. What does she mean? I’m here mom. I was here when you told me about our family. I was here when you read me those books. I was here when you gently rub my forehead praying that I’ll get out soon. I wanted to scream and shout at her to ensure that I was here, but I couldn’t. I tried my hardest to move just a little to grab her attention, but every muscle in my body wouldn’t budge. I wanted to cry, but the tears didn’t run through my face. I just lay there like a corpse waiting to be buried. She then hit me and my cheek. I was confused, and I wanted to know why she hit me. I wanted to scream out to her, but not even a whimper came out of my mouth. She is my mother dammit, and I need to know why! Why she hit me? Why am I here? Why can’t I move? She continues to hit me, and even though every ounce of my body refuse to react in any way, I could still feel the stinging sensation every time she hits me. It hurts, and my mom keep spouting for me to wake up. Soon I heard the doctors come into the room, and my mom stopped hitting me. She yelled at the doctors, saying don’t do it. My mind began to race from this, I wanted to know why I can’t see the world around me. I could hear my mother struggle from the doctors, and I heard a word slip from one of them. It was so vivid and clear. It answered all of my questions. Coma… My mind went blank, and that word was repeating over and over again in my head. I felt like a mad man at this moment. Coma! Coma! Coma! Coma! I wanted to yell, scream, smack one of the doctors in the mouth, but I couldn’t. It felt like a nightmare, but this was too real to even be in the dreamscape of my head. I can hear my mother’s cries as I felt a stinging sensation on my arm, and something coming off from where my mouth was. By then I realized I was on life support the entire time. As the seconds go by I could feel myself getting heavy, and my entire body being cold. The steady beeping from beside me slowed down. Ever since my mom started to visit me, the thought of dying erased from my mind. I don’t want to die now! Not when my mother is standing right beside me when it happens. I want to tell them that I’m still here, but even when I couldn’t move I felt myself getting tired. As the beeping went slower and my mother still crying, I heard a voice that I wished to never hear again. It was the same dreadful voice that played with me all those days ago, but this time it wasn’t in inaudible whispers. It was clear, and it terrified me. “I’ll be seeing you soon…” it said. I felt my last heart beat faded like a last song in a concert, and everything was quiet. Even in death’s grasp, I still fear for my life. A single tear drops from my right eye, and as the last of my life faded away from my body I whispered, “I’m still here…” 