Limbo
by Sarah Smith
Everything was a blur, scattered thoughts and incoherent whispers from the people shuffling around, until the pain turned to peace and all the noise faded into the background.
There was a small tug, like a string had been wrapped around her wrists, her shoulders, her knees and feet, gently pulling her up and away from the weight that was the lifeless body beneath her.
For a moment there was silence, her soul detached, finding relief in the peace, yet yearning for the chaos that came with life. While she scanned her own form left behind that was barely recognizable, the people dressed in blue with masks covering their faces, carrying fluid bags and an IV line that they pushed into the arm of the body, despite her soul not feeling a thing.
Her mind was a mess, trying to find clarity within the unknown, until her gaze met a form at the opposite end of the room, both blending in and standing out at once.
Hair that fell neatly down shoulders, clad in a white dress with too much detail to take in, eyes that held so much familiarity despite the strangeness of the figure.
Time stood still for a moment, eyes locked on each other and a flash of understanding passing over the girl's expression. The presence of the figure providing a warmth, a comfort, a certainty of protectiveness that allowed the girl to breathe again, hope filling her gentle soul.
In the split of a second, the shadow of darkness that had been lingering behind the girl disappeared, along with the strings that had been wrapped around her limbs, death letting go of its cruel grasp, and the bright soul being sucked back into the still body that laid on the bed.
The figure in the corner remained, watching over with a silent promise to stay and to care. Even when unseen, it persisted, its refusal to leave a show that it was not time.
It was not her time.