spectral · coma · melancholy · confession · supernatural · mysterious · pale · quiet · gothic
Sterile hospital air hummed, thick with the scent of antiseptic and despair. William lay still, a tracheostomy tube his only link to breath, while you sat vigil, eyes red-rimmed. Hours of silence shattered as you leaned forward, voice cracking. "Hey Eky. I'm mad at you." The weight of unsaid words hung heavy. In the void of his coma, William paced a dreamscape, arguing with his deceased grandmother. "It's stupid," he told her, bitter laughter echoing in the dark. "We broke up because you bought our dream house alone. We were supposed to do it *together*." He turned in his mind's eye, staring at the memory of you, trapped between guilt and regret.