Why Can't They Hear Me?

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Amara woke up to the familiar sight of her bedroom ceiling. She sat up from the bed as she heard the clatters of pot and spoons coming from the kitchen. The television was so loud that she could hear the football commentary from her room. For a moment, she smiled and felt some relief. She was home.

Gently she pushed herself off the bed and winced in pain as her head spun around. She tried calling out for her mum, "Mama", but her voice was weak. She sat back down again and shut her eyes holding her head in her hands.

Then flashes of the accident came flooding her mind. The blinding light from the incoming headlights, the way she stepped on the brakes and swerved to the left. The screeching of tyres and the loud deafening crash. The last thing she could remember was her being under the wreckage and the blaring sound and hurried voices of the paramedics. How she got home was a mystery to her.

This time she pulled herself together and pushed herself off the bed again. The cold tiles biting at her feet.

“Mama?” she called again, louder this time. But again, no one answered her.

She walked her way downstairs to the sitting room where her dad sat reading a newspaper, her only brother Junior was glued to the TV screen playing video games and her mum was busy serving dinner at the dining table. She smiled and called out to them.

"Papa, Mama, I'm awake", she said, forcing a smile. She had made herself believe she had just woken up from a coma.

But no one replied to her nor even pretended like she was in the room. She walked over to her mother in the dining room and tried putting her hand on her shoulders, but her hands passed right through. Amara took a deep breath, as her jaw felt too heavy to close.

"No, no, no. What's going on here? What's wrong with me? Why can't you hear me? It's Amara o and I'm right in front of you guys," she said with pain in her voice. She was already panicking.

She walked over to the TV and stood before it waving her hands in front of their faces, shouting their names. But no one moved. All she could hear apart from the heavy silence was the plates of food her mum was arranging.

"Bobo, come and eat your food," her mum called to her younger brother from the dining room.

Amara stood up and quickly walked over to stand before her mum. "What about mine, Mama? Call me to come and eat too." She tried grabbing a bowl but her hands passed through again.

She turned in fear and saw her younger brother walking towards her like she wasn't there. But before she could raise her hands to stop him from colliding with her. He walked passed right through her body like she wasn't there.

Scared to the bones. Her head was already playing out different scenarios of what was happening. She quickly ran to the big mirror in the hallway and stood before it. But her reflection wasn't staring back at her.

She yelled in a loud voice and cried in so much pain. But the hallway didn't echo back her voice.

"My daughter" she heard a familiar voice call. Quickly she turned to see who it was that could see her. Standing at the far end of the hallway was her late grandma. She was buried last Christmas.

"Grandma? But you're dead." She called, "How is it possible? How can I see you? What's going on with me? Why can't they hear me?" She asked so many questions in a split second.

Grandma smiled. "Because you're dead, just like me". Grandma explained without mincing words.

Amara couldn't believe it. She shook her head vigorously in disbelief. She didn't want to believe that the accident took her life. She pinched herself, praying that it was all a dream and she would just wake up. But the more she tried, the more she realised that it was her reality.

"Why?!" She yelled and fell to her knees crying. "Why me?" She asked again.

Her grandma walked up to her and held her by her shoulders. That was the only person that had touched her that day.

"Come with me," her grandma said.

She took her back to the sitting room where her family was already gathered at the dining table having dinner. Her grandma made her look at them and eat in silence.

"You, them. That feeling that you don't want to be without your parents is the reason why you're still here. But your presence in this house will still keep them in that state without happiness. That's why you have to let go for them to have their happiness again".

"So what do I do?" Amara asked her grandma in tears.

"You just have to let go. Say your goodbyes and come with me". Her grandma replied with a soft voice.

Amara thought of her family, their laughter at dinner, their love towards one another. She thought of how she had left the house in anger the night of the accident, slamming the door behind her after a fight with her mother.

She turned to her grandma with tears and a cracked voice.
“I didn’t even say goodbye. I didn’t even apologise.”

Her grandma held her hands and looked into her eyes. “Listen to me, darling. From what I see here, I know you love them, and I know they love you too. But the key here is that you must forgive yourself first. Only then can you find peace.”

Amara turned and looked at her family one more time. She nodded, then turned to her grandma with a deep breath.
"Take me out of here".

Her grandma smiled and held her close. Then, together, they walked towards the end of the hallway and disappeared into thin air.