Only God Knows

• Andrew Kennedy, Grade 9, St Mary's Cathedral College
• Short Story
• 2015

Excellence Award in the 'The Write Track 2015' competition

An abundance of grey is the only thing to fill my sight besides my own body. There is nothing around me except the perplexing grey. I have pondered the meaning of it many times. In the beginning, I screamed my lungs raw and failed to notice my surroundings, because I was falling. I am falling. I don't know how I am falling, for there is no indication of movement, no passing flicker in the endless grey, no wind rustling my clothes. I am either falling or floating, but falling seems the more realistic choice.
I have no indication of time in this abyss, for nothing other than me exists in this realm, let alone moves. Nor do I have a need for food and water. Occasionally I feel hungry or thirsty, but that is quickly quenched, by means I am not aware. I have also pondered this, but there is no determinable cause. After the first time, I have tried to call out, to see if a response can be conjured, but none seem to arrive from the walls of grey that surround me. I have come to a conclusion from the time I have been here, however long that may have been. There is nobody to save me. I am alone. And I am lost.

"Today makes 26 years since we put him in there," said Dr Shewper, staring through the glass that separated her from the patient.
"Really?" replied her companion, Dr Wedler, who was standing next to her drinking from a cardboard coffee cup, bags under his eyes. "It feels like we've been staring through this glass for 50. Anything new?"
Shewper sighed, "The usual. His brain patterns are the same, all his vitals. Everything is exactly the same as when we began the procedure."
"Even his looks. He might be like Captain America, waking up forty years in the future to a completely renewed world." Wedler gave a slight chuckle as he said this, but there was a slight seriousness in his voice.
"We need to find a cure. We devoted ourselves to ending the outbreak thirty years ago, and this man is the closest we have gotten. Do you know how lucky we are that we have him?"
Annoyance flashed in Wedler's eyes. "We may have kept him alive, but he is in a dream state. The constant vital signs means that he is probably living out the same scenario day by day, year by year. How do we know what he is thinking? Only God can tell what is running through his head while he is like this, what emotions he is feeling. Only God knows..."

I am so lost here. I am so alone. Why will nobody help me?