Darkness

I opened my eyes, and everything was black. I blink, to still find nothing but darkness.

Why is it so dark?

I get up to search for the light switch. Reaching my hands out, making sure I don't run into anything; my finger tips can't find anything to touch. I keep walking forward, where I'm sure the light is. Then I run, but still nothing.

Okay, weird dream.

I thrash around, yet I only find emptiness surrounding me. Panic doesn’t set in, like I thought maybe it would. My heart stays at a normal pace, but confusion consumes my mind.

Am I dead? I died in my sleep? No, that’s not right. Where was I? I was out with my buddies. Yeah, then I went home.

Wait, did I make it home?

Home always reminded me of Janna. We first met when she accidentally bumped into me at a coffee shop, which resulted in my coffee ending up all over my shirt. Annoyed, I looked up to see these worried yet vivid golden eyes. That was it for me. Flustered with bright red cheeks, she offered to buy me another coffee. Being the most smooth I've ever been in my life, I convinced her to have the coffee with me - and my stained shirt.

A year later, we got married. Over time, she complained of her crooked nose and curves of her body, but I never saw what she did. To me, she was an angel with a kind heart and beautiful eyes. Also, the curves were a plus for me. And I loved her so much, even her occasional stubborn hard headedness.

I see her face in my mind, but soon the darkness consumes me again. I try laying down on the foreign ground, hoping I was in a dream I could wake up from.

Was I sleeping?

Confused that I wasn't more bothered. I thought about my dad, who was never one to worry.

My father loved Janna and was always saying she was the best thing to happen to me. He would nudge her with his elbow, as if they were in on some joke together, while telling me how lucky I was. He was more than just my dad, and as I got older, he became my best friend. My mom left when I was young, and I had no siblings; we only had each other. Spending our time together fishing, out at ball games, and hiking. When we needed to, we could laugh, cry, and get angry. Having our differences, but we always ended up on the same side.

Then 2020 hit. With precaution, we still saw my dad, but over the year, we realized he saw the world much differently than we did. That’s when the fights began. It started with petty arguments, then the election came, and that evening we had the biggest fight we've ever had. He left in a huff, and we hadn't spoken since.

I can't believe its been over three years now.

I opened my eyes to the blackness engulfing me. Sleeping wasn't working. I jumped up and started running as fast as I could. Yelling "Help! Can anyone hear me!" for what felt like an hour. Nothing came of it. I sat, trying to think of what I was doing before I came here; my mind was hard to read. The end of the night was hazy. I had one beer earlier, but I never experienced this before.

Wait, I remember getting into my car...

Which brought me back to the night Janna died, before Christmas that year. The shock was one thing, but the heartache following almost swallowed me whole. My buddies would come by to check on me, but watching me lay in bed unable to eat or talk was overwhelming for them. And I understood that. There wasn't anything they could do. Most nights I spent sitting in my dull, square apartment by myself, stumbling to the couch with a drink in one hand and my phone in the other. Hoping to see my dad’s name pop up on the screen, but it never came. The walls felt like they were closing in on me. In an inebriated state, I would pick up my phone and stare at my dad’s number, with tears running down my face. I just needed him to tell me everything was going to be okay. But I was too proud. If I called, somehow that would mean he was right, and I was wrong.

Why didn’t I just call?

Through the darkness, I see a flicker out of the corner of my eye. I spin around. As I move closer, I see the flash again. I try to keep my gaze but lose it. Going in and out of focus, my brain unable to keep up. As I walk closer, I keep my eyes fixed. It’s a green light, a small green light. It’s blurry at first, barely visible, but the closer I get, the more clear the glow becomes. I can almost touch it.

Don't lose focus.

I hear a whimpering voice, "Please just wake up, please."

Before I know it, the darkness lifts. It's brighter, and I begin to see grey shapes around me. I survey my surroundings. My brain buzzing, trying its hardest to make out what I'm seeing. The shapes become objects. I can't recognize them at first. They seem familiar but I don’t know. I look back at the green light; I see it more clearly now. Then I start to recognize this place. Its sterile, impersonal, and clinical. I'm in a bed.

Yes, a bed. Oh, thank God.

The green light was coming from a medical device. It had one cord attached to the wall, and another cord attached to me. I see a man sitting in the chair by my bed. Everything is becoming apparent now. He has his head down, and his hands together in prayer. His tanned skin looks familiar, yet I can't place it.

I think I recognize him.

He then looks up at me. The eyes I've known my entire life. His red, swollen face lets out an exasperated gasp. Almost unable to speak in his light southern accent, his face squinted together trying to hold it all in, his throat muffles a sob, "I've missed you so much."