Ophelia
There’s only noise.
A low, uneven hum somewhere far away.
I don’t feel, see, or smell anything. There’s only sound, distant and empty, like the world still exists, just without me in it.
Someone’s talking, maybe more than one voice, but I can’t tell what they’re saying. Everything blends together.
I try to move, but nothing happens. My body doesn’t feel like it belongs to me. It’s heavy and weightless.
Then I hear him.
His voice, low, rough, frayed at the edges, cuts through the noise. It reaches somewhere deep inside me. My chest tightens, and for a second, it almost feels like I can breathe again.
I want to reach for him. I try.
But I can’t.
Every attempt feels like being pulled under. The harder I fight to move, the more it feels like I’m sinking. My mind screams at me to wake up, to open my eyes, to answer him, but my body won’t listen.
I’m so tired.
Maybe it would be easier to stop trying, to rest.
But then he says my name.
His voice cracks on it… broken, and something inside me twists so hard it hurts. My heart stirs, aching and unsteady.
I want to tell him I’m here. That I’m trying.
But before I can, the sound fades. The faint light around me dulls until it’s gone completely.
And then there’s nothing.
Just black.