Sing Me A Song

I'm sick of the dark, I really am.
For three years, I've had to face it. I've had no choice but to endure it. What really irritates me is that they don't know.
They have no idea that my brain is working perfectly fine. I may not be able to see anything, but I can hear. And I know what happens around me every day.

Every day, I've had to listen to my mother's desperate pleas to try and wake me. I've had to listen to my father's worried words. I've had to listen to them both grovel and beg the doctors to keep me on life support.
Sometimes I even wish they'd just un-support me.
At least that way, I'd finally be able to move on, instead of being stuck, in this... Darkness.

Sometimes.

Most of the time though, I focus on trying.

I have leave a result of some kind. Something to show my parents that I am still alive. Sort of.

Mum or Dad are always holding my hands. But I can't make myself move in any way.
I'm so sick of it all!!

Why is life this unfair?

~*~*~*~

I woke up with a horrible feeling.
Laryngitis.

Boring right? I know you were probably think "Hangover!"
But sorry to burst your bubble, I'm not that like that.

Croaking, I got up, silenced myself in the mirror and did my thing, I tried to eat breakfast before driving to the doctors. But it didn’t really work out.

Let me explain a little about myself.
I'm an extremely talented vocalist. But that doesn't make me gay. It just makes me a candidate for my ATCL exam next month.
After that, I plan to propose my name forward for a scholarship to America. ‘Cause if there's anything I really need. It would be the money.

My mum works her butt off. My dad took off with some skank before I was even born, so I'll have his butt off if he ever decides to come back.

I take my singing very seriously. I’m no fun if I want to practice and people are keeping me from it. Sometimes I don’t even know why I’m into it so much. I’m not normal. But then again, I never was.

There was a mild sort of buzz of voices at the hospital. After seeing my doctor and receiving my prescription, I walked towards the pharmacy. I noticed that the nurses tried to create an ‘open’ sort of theme today. They had every door to every ward open so that visitors could come and go as they pleased.

But there was this one door. It was shut tightly, and seemed to have been for a long time.

‘Lily,’ I whispered the name out loud. It was painful and it sounded course, but it felt good.

The family obviously wanted privacy if they had to leave the door shut so tightly like that. I don’t know what came over me, but suddenly, I realised I just had to go in. Something pulled me, a force like no other. A need.

I turned the handle, and opened the door.

~*~*~*~

It was still pitch black. I seemed to be thriving on nothing, if that even made sense at all. I heard the nurses come in and change the flowers. The scraping sound of windows almost made me smile.

More sounds to be heard, something slightly different. I realised they were going with an ‘open’ theme today.

Open was good. Maybe I would finally open my eyes today.

Suddenly, bright light appeared out of nowhere. It filled up and ate all of the darkness.

I gasped in wonder, but in a second, it was all gone.
“No!!” I screamed. “don’t go! Please don’t go!” Nothing could describe the panic of finding myself in the dark again. I didn’t want this. I wanted out. I wanted to see light.

“Please!!!” I cried desperately “Please!! I need you!”
I was screaming now, I hated how I’d lost all my independence with this thing.

“PLEASE DON'T GO!!!!!”
But no one answered, and the darkness silenced me once more.