There’s a forest. The sun is shining, but the light is all green, because it’s filtering through the leaves in the canopy above. It’s hard to breathe through the warm and sticky air, and there’s a musty smell of soil and plants that tastes slightly sweet. From somewhere behind a tree, a monkey calls. The leaves rustle.
A flock of birds fly, panicked by the monkey. Screeching madly, they vacate the area.
As time passes, the sky turns dark. It isn’t evening, yet; not even twilight. Through cracks in the leaves, above, clouds gather. Thick, dark clouds, heavy with the promise of rain.
The forest is silent now.
The forest lights up in a spectacular show of colour. Green predominantly, with orange, red, yellow flowers, purple ones and pink ones.
Everything glows with an unearthly light.
The thunder has come, hot on the heels of the lightning. The air has grown chilly, damp and earthy, filled with petrichor.
With a giant rumble, there’s another flash.
A drop falls, suspended in the air.
It lands on a banana leaf, collects on the tip, and. . .
All goes black.
The darkness is consuming, enveloping, frightening.
Everything is silent.
But. . . what is that?
“She blinked! I saw it!”
“She couldn’t have. She can’t do anything, remember?”
“Yeah, but. . .”
“Just drop it.”
The world is silent again.
The world turns.
“I know you probably can’t hear me, but I want you to know that we’re all rooting for you. So please wake up, because I don’t know what we’ll do without you. . .”
The world spins.
“She’s been out for years, now. Medically speaking, we’ve given up all hope. The machines are breathing for her, and there’s no brain activity, so there’s no chance she’ll wake up.”
The world lurches.
“So this is goodbye. We’ve agreed to pull the plug. They say you’re dead anyway, and I suppose it’s true, but if you aren’t, then I’m very, very sorry. . . I just don’t know what else I can do!”
Then pain, lots of pain.
There’s a forest. The sun is shining. . .