Flash Fiction 18

He is — it is an apparition. A friendly kind that manifests itself into the space beside my mind, some where in my head I can see it — in the form it has decided on frequently in moments when I am at the end.

You see, I happened to take a tumble, out of a window, several stories above where I lay in this pillow like snow. I cannot feel my face, but, in the interim, I mentally check that my toes and fingers can still grasp. They can, I am still in control. The next part — following this unfortunate circumstance is my spine. While the lower extremities are reacting to the messages of my mind, I am not certain I can make the trek back.

Instead of test now, in the dark — well, not dark, underneath the lamp beside the apartment complex I am laying in front of — I will sleep. I am exhausted.

That is when /it/ comes. A small — asexual smile in the darkness; whispering in a distinct voice as devoid of gender as the smile. The outline make the lips and the cheeks in the dark, /it/ speaks to me.

“Good morning, morning.. wake up..” a nudge at me. I am not conscious, but I can feel the rays of sunlight on my face. This is the beginning of a good sign. A severe pain shoots up the center of my brain and a spike of a headache begins to set on.
“Wake up. It’s time to get up.”
“Wake up.”

Seems that I have no choice. I open my eyes to a wonderful blue sky, a cool wind drags along the plains of white.

“Good morning to you.”

I seem to have lost my voice. /it/ does not find this offensive.

“Now that you’re waking up, have a big smile on your face.”

I oblige, my cheeks are tight, pulling in a pain as they crease to the edge of my face.

“Keep on smiling.”

Some of my teeth begin to show, which slides a few droplets of blood down my throat; this is not the worst.

“Today is going to be the best day of your life.”

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