(This is my first post, so sorry if it isn't fabulous.)
My mother stood over me while I was in my hospital bed. She was crying, I just knew it. Even though the dark, almost water-like affects of a coma were overpowering me, I knew what her decision was. I had been in a coma for a month, thanks to a train accident. Mother told me she would pull the plug. I couldn't see her face, but I could hear. Just barely. She held my hand as the doctors gave me the sweet release of death. The darkness somehow got darker, and I felt like I was floating. I heard a distant voice. I couldn't make out what they were saying, but it sounded like a he. I was dead, right? I mean, there was no more pain, I felt like I was flying, but I was encased in a never-ending blob of darkness. I heard the voice more clearly, as he said, "Open your eyes." I did.


(who wants to be the 'he'? :) )