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Wilted Flowers

last update Last Updated: 2024-02-02 14:42:54

[Charlotte]

The ceiling is white, the corners dingy and yellow from scrubbing. It is the only thing I've been able to see in this room because I cannot turn my head and I can barely blink. Just opening my eyes makes them burn with a hot white fire even though the room itself is cold and dry with a strong antiseptic smell. Shivering in the room, I am mentally transported to the moment in time when my grandmother took her last breaths. I know that somehow I am in a hospital, although I cannot remember what happened to bring me here, or why I am in so much pain.

I do remember the feeling of soft hands on my cheek and the gentle sound of crying. I remember someone shouting. The feeling of weightlessness, of being carried, and then nothing. Everything is a blur.

There is a quiet stillness to the air. There is the sound of machines buzzing and beeping and the almost silent sound of gentle weeping.

“Hello,” I croak, my throat dry. “Is someone there?”

“Charlie,” A man speaks, his
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