Coffee.

• Charity Cheng, Grade 8
• Short Story
• 2022

“Phoebe come downstairs right now!” my mum barked, incandescent as always. I rolled my eyes, grabbed my untouched coffee, and scampered down the staircase. When I reached the bottom, my mother was fuming. Mum rubbed her temple as I took a small sip of my coffee. “Are you out of your mind?” She gestured toward the mouldy apple core I had accidentally left on the couch a week ago. I was searching for an excuse when, suddenly, I began to feel lightheaded. Colour quickly drained from her face as she watched me fall to the ground. “PHOEBE!” Mum panicked, shaking my shoulders.

Oscitant, I forced my eyes open and found myself in my own room. Only, it didn’t feel like my room. This room was bright and warm. There were diminutive succulents sitting on my window sill, my bedsheets were a different shade of yellow, and polaroids of me and my old best friend were hung up all over my walls. My dead best friend. This must’ve been my old room setup.

I unplugged my phone, perplexed, only to find that it was my old phone in its bright pink phone case. Even more baffled than before, I trudged down stairs, driven by the aroma of sizzling bacon. “Honey sit down, we’re having bacon and eggs for breakfast” my mum sang. “Mum, what’s wrong with my room? Why do I have succulents on my window sill and pictures of Lily on my wall? You know I don’t like being reminded of her.” She spun around with a perplexed look on her face. “Phoebe, you’ve always had those succulents. What do you mean you don’t like being reminded of her? Did something happen at school?”

School? I graduated 2 years ago… Does this mean Lily’s still alive? “Oh, nothing.
Actually, I just remembered that I’m meeting Lily. In the cafe.” I lied. I quickly scurried out of the house and sprinted to the cafe that Lily used to work at. I pushed open the door and found Lily making coffee, grinning. The Lily that I spent weeks mourning over after her tragic car crash a year ago, was standing in front of me. My eyes were glassy as I glanced at my watch. 9.30 am, September 27th, 2017. Wait. That was 5 years ago! My old room, my old phone, Lily. The dots were beginning to connect.

I then felt a tap on my shoulder, interrupting my thoughts. Lily flashed a sad smile as tears spilled from my eyes. “I knew you’d come! Here I have something to give you.” She handed me a small note. “Wake up” it read. My eyes flung open to the sound of accelerated beeps in a hospital. My mum’s head snapped. “Phoebe!” She embraced me, her tears soaking up my clothes. “What happened? I was gone for a day…” My eyes were watching her curiously. “ Oh honey, the coffee-” She choked, “you’ve been in a coma for 7 years…”