'What was the last thing you remember before waking up here?' by Tilly Greenland

Running through the meadows, feeling the flowers and grasses rush through my hands.  Perhaps that’s what I remember?

Floating sticks and leaves down the stream, seeing who reaches the bridge first.  Perhaps that’s what I remember?

Walking along the beach, wind in my hair, salt spray lashing at my face.  Probably collecting sea shells.  Perhaps that’s what I remember?

Eating chocolate cake, my favourite flavour.  Perhaps that’s what I remember?

Sitting at my table making jewellery, or sewing something, or making resin shakers.  Perhaps that’s what I remember?

Watching Netflix, curled up on my sofa, just me and the cat.  Perhaps that’s what I remember?

Going to meet my friends at the pub, before heading into town.  Perhaps that’s what I remember?

Getting a little drunk, unsteady on my feet.  Perhaps that’s what I remember?

Walking along the pavement, bright lights, loud noises.  Perhaps that’s what I remember?

A shout, a beep, a screech.  Perhaps that’s what I remember?

Flying through the air.  Bouncing off the roof.  Splayed out upon the floor.  Perhaps that’s what I remember?

Crowds gathered round, people crying and holding each other.  Perhaps that’s what I remember?

Yes, wait, I do remember.

What was the last thing I remember before waking up here?

Dying.  That’s what I remember.