The Hummingbird

Am I dead?

It’s hard to imagine – death, that is.

The light is gone. All I can see is the back of my eyelids and feel my palms against my face.

I dig my fingernails into my cheeks. Pain. I slide my hands from my face, letting them settle at my sides. There’s lush grass beneath me. A chilly breeze strokes my face, encouraging me to open my eyes. I can smell nature’s perfume – irises, juniper, and a faint trace of lavender. I’m in a different sea. A sea of flowers.

I can feel my heart beat. The numbness from the ocean is sliding off it, and my heart adopts a familiar tempo. Emotions start pumping through my body. In the distance, I can hear the faint cry of the lullaby.

Where is the water? Where is the heat? Where is my heart? I want them back – I need them back. I’m out of control right now – please, give me back my vice. My torture. My essence.

Let me drown.

I thrash in the grass, my senses intoxicated by the blossoms around me. Drowning in petals, drowning in ocean water – what’s the difference? I’m getting my wish, aren’t I?

Open your eyes.

My heart races at the sound of the voice. What is this fluttering, like a hummingbird trapped beneath my ribcage? My face grows hot, but it’s nothing like the blistering heat of the sun. It’s… Pleasant. Odd.

Why should I trust this voice? I can hear the man and the woman in the distance – I can hear their atrocious lullaby. He could be leading me into a trap. He could be dragging me into a future, filled with the echoes of the past. My life would be a constant rerun. Never ceasing. Never ending.

Open your eyes.

I feel heat enclose me. Close by, I hear a faint humming. Soft, sweet, but broken.

This is the point when I open my eyes.