When the lights were on, life was vibrant. The people danced, colors swirled, music blared and smiles shone as bright as the glitter and sequins.

The night was dark, but after the club closed we drove around, the crew attempting to keep the party going in the car. We belted out lyrics, clinking bottles together, whooping and hollering. Still smiling.

Then the lights went out. The darkness was so complete. The singing stopped, the smiles were gone, the colors vanished. All that was left was pitch black darkness and pain. My ears ringed for a long time. My head swam in the oblivion, trying to find something that made sense.

I heard sounds as the ringing stopped, whimpering sounds, but it was only me. And the darkness remained. It covered me, held me gently, and frightened me. I called out, but the darkness swallowed my pleas.
“Can you hear me?”


“Where am I? I can’t see anything!”

“You were in an accident. We’re going to remove the gauze now.”

Brilliant white light invaded the dark. I gasped.

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