“How long has she been in that state?”
He glanced nervously at the clock on the wall, while inside his head his brain was working to figure out what day is it. He has lost track of date and time ever since what happened to his sister.
“She… she has been that way since April 11.”
Long, uneasy silence.
“Sir, today is July 28. It’s been three months.”
He had to take a few minutes to process what the voice in his phone just told him. He barely slept nor eat anything since then, but it didn’t feel like it’s taken months at all. In a way, it took only days; but in another way, seeing how much she is suffering, it felt like forever has passed already.
He shifted his attention to his sister worriedly; a woman in her early 20s, lying down in bed looking nearly lifeless, her skin pallid and her hair disheveled. By the way that her limbs were sprawled across the bed, it almost seemed like she was pinned down by invisible ropes. Her eyes were wide open, staring blankly at the stained ceiling above the bed. They have been open exactly since April 11, when he realized that his sister Carol hasn’t gone out of bed all day, and he found her in that position. He realized that something was wrong when she wouldn’t respond to anything he said.
He thought it would go away eventually, but after a few days of no change at all, he decided to call 911. And then, the dispatcher on the phone told him that it has been 3 months, not 3 days like he originally thought.
He sat on the chair he has put near her bed, almost as lifeless as she is. “Please send someone over here,” he continued, nearly inaudibly. “My sister needs help. She might be dehydrated and exhausted, she…”
He stopped talking and put his phone down, when he realized that the phone call has ended abruptly. Lifting the phone up, he was ready to dial 911 again when something else caught his attention.
“Frank,” a voice pleaded. His eyes quickly darted back to her. “Carol?”
She could finally shift her eyes to him, fear and dread were written all over them. “I don’t know what to do, Frank,” she whispered in a hushed voice. “I’m sorry.”
And as soon as she spoke her last sentence, black strings appeared from her bed sheet, pulling her underneath.