The Crash

Wrote this tonight in work.. enjoy. Comment will be appreciated.

The breaks squealed as the tyres struggled to gain friction on the damp asphalt. There was an explosion of sound that echoed on the lonesome road. A pale glow illuminated the darkness as the flames spread through the wreck. He sat unconscious yet aware of the burning; a dreamlike stat from which he couldn’t escape.

Time passed yet he had no idea of how much. He would pass in and out of awareness like a man drowning, struggling against the ebbing tide. Eventually he drifted back into focus. He was standing in a room that was unfamiliar to him. A quick glance revealed it to be a hospital room. They must have rescued him from the … he wasn’t sure. Everything seemed so vague. Glimpses of memory flashed like a match being flared and quenched; the dark road, the stormy weather, the skid, the barrier, and then … nothing. Darkness, burning, pain. Then he found himself here.

The room was an ordinary hospital room; the single bed in the corner, the small portable television against the far side of the room and the various machines which beeped and hummed. This bed was occupied. He had no memory of how he ended up here in this room. He must have left his own and somehow wound up here before blacking out. There was something about the figure in the bed which compelled him to look closer. Like a car wreck, he knew he shouldn’t, yet he couldn’t resist.
There were tubes connected seemingly everywhere on their body. White bandages covered every inch. The tubes were connected to a machine, which emitted a high pitched beep. Life support, he realised, the poor bastard. He moved closer to the figure; a man, he guessed.

The only patch not covered by bandages were their eyes. They were open yet showed no sign of awareness. The pale blue stared blankly back at him. There was something so familiar about the eyes; as if they belonged to someone he once knew but was unsure of who. He realised whose they were an started to scream. They were his eyes. He was staring down at his own body!

He tried to run through the open doors yet it was like running into a brick wall. He desperately tried to palm the air, trying to find a way out, to escape, to be free from this nightmare. Yet he was stuck, trapped like a caged animal. Panic flowed through his body; his breathing became erratic, his heart beat raced, his vision blurred. He glanced back at the figure … his body … and became rational.

If he were staring down at his own body then he must be dead, right? Yet it didn’t explain why the chest is heaving in and out. He tried screaming so loud that God himself would have heard it. Yet there was nothing. Nobody came running. Shortly afterwards there was movement in the hall and in stepped a nurse in a white uniform holding a clipboard. A doctor in a long white coat entered followed by his wife. His beautiful, beautiful wife, Ellen. He shouted her name, pleading her to hear him. Yet she showed no acknowledgement whatsoever.

There were tears in her eyes and her cheeks were streaked red. Patches of black showed where here mascara had ran. His heart sank to see her so sad. He told her that it was alright, that everything would be okay. It was pointless, he knew, she wouldn’t be able to hear him.

The doctor had a solemn look on his face. They were speaking about something yet he couldn’t hear what they were saying. He didn’t need to, however, as he knew exactly what they were saying; they were talking about him. His wife began to sob uncontrollably and collapsed into the chair. He understood precisely what had been said and moved closer to Ellen. He rested his hand lightly on her shoulder; so light it would have only felt like a breeze, and told her that it was okay, that she should do what she had to.

She stopped crying and stood up slowly, as if trying to regain her balance. For the longest time she said nothing, like she had lost the ability to speak. Then she spoke two words, so simple yet so important. The words she said:

“Do it.”

The doctor nodded slowly and glanced at the nurse who gave a quick nod before both stepped over to the body. The doctor gave a final look to Ellen, who spoke something, before he turned to the machine. He flicked a switch and the machine’s beeping became a single, high-pitched tone before the doctor pushed a button to silence it.

Ellen collapsed into the chair and sobbed harder than before. She stopped suddenly and listened. Did she hear it? Yes, she must have: A voice. It sounded so low and far away yet the words it spoke were so clear and the voice so recognizable. It said:

“Thank you.”

Her sobs stopped, her face brightened; she smiled

Sorry for double post but I'd be interested in knowing what people thought of this. Alot of people have read it supposedly but no comments.

BEAT

I have to say that ofcourse it is a touching story but it's something I have seen so many times before. There is nothing original about it. I can turn the tv on right now and see this scenerio on 10 different channels. I'd say you have a way with telling a story, try creating something more original and adding some twists and unexpected endings... you could have done a lot of things with this but it all turned out to be predictable and familiar.

Try again I'd love to see something else