This is the house. The seasons have changed from hot to cold and back again since it happened. Not much has changed with it since they stopped, except the concrete sidewalk breaking apart on the edges.
Yes, stopped, no one knows, especially the doctors, what happened to them except stopped. Eyes closed. Breathing slightly. No movement. No sound. Stopped. It’s not a coma. There is no other definition for the state they are in, therefore, stopped.
I don’t know how long they’d been like this when my sister-in-law’s boss found them. She hadn’t come to work in a few days after her vacation ended without any word. That was not like her at all. He could see them through the window sitting in my little niece’s bedroom; stopped.
The police and paramedics didn’t report anything strange about the room or house. When I went in, it didn’t look out of the ordinary to me either. A little girl’s room with toys scattered around. I collected the items from the house, including the box of old cards that sat on the floor and put the for sale sign in the front yard. It’s been like that for a year.
Read all the entries at Defiantly Literate.

%d bloggers like this: