Fly high

This isn’t the life you wished for.

This isn’t the body you hoped for.

This isn’t the world you were meant for.

It was the summer of 2014, Fremantle town centre, it’s the little details that have stuck with you. you remember how the light warm breeze felt on your back, as you were wearing a blue summer dress with brown flat sand shoes and your hair falling around your shoulders in a chaotic and flimsy way. The cars driving past as you stand on the corner of the street just out the front of your favourite coffee shop, not paying attention you crossed the street without seeing the beat up station wagon going too fast for this slow street, the last thing you remember wasn’t the pain caused by the car hitting you but the light that came with it, the flash of light as your world got turned upside down and all the colours mixed with the burn of the sun, that bright, messy, colourful, sharp flash of light, then suddenly it was dark.

Your awake, but you don’t know where you are, it feels like a bed, but too firm to be your own, a familiar sound was starting to come into focus as your ears adjusted to the sounds of the room…

Beep… beep… beep…

And suddenly you knew where you were, hospital! But how… the car, ofcourse, the light, the blackness. You couldn't open your eyes, move your hands, or even speak out loud, it was just the thoughts in your head you could hear. Trapped in a prison, trapped without any way out. Alone with your thoughts and no way of escaping.

This is worse than death, this is being aware of everything around you without the ability to move, talk, or even wiggle a toe to let anyone watching see that your awake, awake yet asleep to the rest of the world. Day in day out, you hear doctors and nurses talk about you.

“It’s not looking good”

“She should be awake by now”

“It’s been 11 months”

But to you it has felt like 11 years, your brain sleeps even less when your body isn’t doing any work, not knowing if it’s day or night. Family members come and sit by your bed, some cry, some read to you, it’s nice when they read, it’s calming. Your mother comes the most, every day maybe? Could be every second day, your not sure. She mostly cries, holds your hand and that’s when you understand something, life as you know it, will not be the same… and a dreadful thought crosses your mind every now and then, what if they give up, they can’t give up! Your still alive, just trapped within your own body. No way out. No way out! NO WAY OUT!

One day things began to change, doctors came in and discussed your options with your mother and she breaks down, you hear her sobbing to the doctor

“Is there anything else you can try! I can’t give up! I WONT GIVE UP”

She’s yelling now, hysterical and the doctor just tries to calm her.

“I’m sorry, she’s been unresponsive for 11 months, at this point she’s unlikely to recover at all”

A few days pass and your mother hasn’t left since she heard the doctor say those words. Your brother comes in and you hear him speak to your mother and all you could do was listen as your brother spoke about your death sentence, the last option, the ‘humane’ option.

“Mum, it’s not fair, she’s not coming back, we have to say goodbye”

“No mother should have to bury there own child.”

“I know Mum but there isn’t any other option”

More crying, more hand holding, but no more reading, no more sounds of pages turning, no more trying, you had given up too. You make your peace with death and welcome it with open arms.

“It’s time, I’m sorry ma’am can you please sign this form stating that you give the hospital permission to terminate life support and begin the process”

You hear rustling, and a pen against paper, that’s the sound of your life ending. You never thought death could sound so simple. Pen on paper. The flip of a switch, it was time.

As the day goes on you hear every family member come in one at a time and say there final goodbyes. By this point you had stopped listening, you were numb, not able to comprehend what was even about to happen. A few hours pass and your mother comes in.

“My darling girl, I love you, with all my heart, you will never be forgotten, nothing will ever take your beautiful memory away. Fly high my little barn owl”

Barn owl, Mum hasn’t called you that since you were a kid, her cute little nickname came when you refused to sleep for one whole summer in the hope to see a sunrise, a sunrise you never made it to because you always ended up falling asleep. This will be the last time you fall asleep. No more sunrises to wait for.

Fly high little barn owl.

And then it was black.