Ten Years A Prisoner, Now Free

The first thing I felt was a single tear tracing a path down my temple. For ten years, my body had been a prison, a vessel for a consciousness trapped in a silent, black ocean. My fiancé, David Chen, stood over my bed, his face a mask of shock.

"Sarah?" he whispered, his voice trembling, right before he confessed, "If it weren't for that accident... Emily would have been my fiancée. We wronged her." These words confirmed the haunting whisperings from my coma.

I had felt everything: the burning dyes Emily tested on me for her "revolutionary" fabrics, my body becoming a roadmap of her cruelty.