text: My daughter held my hand, standing over me as I lay in the hospital bed. I could see her tears sliding through the slight wrinkles on her face and into her white hair, but she was smiling. She smiled because she knew this was how it was supposed to be. I brought her into this world and raised her into a great woman like myself. That was my purpose in life, and now I was done. So I closed my eyes and let myself slip away into blackness. I expected for my mind to settle; for my thoughts to stop moving. But they didn't. I was still here. I was still conscious. How? The blackness slowly started to fade. I could see a faint white light coming in. I opened my eyes to find myself still in the hospital bed, but my daughter was nowhere to be seen. I was all by myself in an empty room. But just as quickly as it came, it was gone. I was staring into blackness again with just my thoughts. Then it all happened once more. The light began to come back. I opened my eyes. I was still alone in the same hospital room. What was this? The blackness returned, and the process repeated a third time. But once I opened my eyes from the blackness for the fourth time, I was no longer in the hospital bed. I was lying in my own home. Alone, in the bedroom that I never thought I'd see again. I was beginning to panic now. What was happening? After a few seconds, the blackness came back. Then I woke up once again in my bedroom. Then the blackness returned. This cycle repeated over and over again. I could feel myself gripping the bedsheets beneath me. My heart was racing, and yet my body felt almost more comfortable than it was before. I noticed that the pains in my neck and ankles were slowly starting to relieve themselves after each blackout. It happened another ten times. Twenty. Fifty. A hundred or so it felt. I tried screaming out, but this cycle didn't seem to end. I couldn't count how many times the blackness flashed in front of me. It felt like I was going on several hundred now. Maybe even a thousand. I woke up in my bedroom once again, but immediately I noticed this one was different. I felt something cold resting on top of my hand. The blackness returned. I woke up again, and that cold was still there. I turned and looked to my side, and was hit with a brick of emotion. I could feel tears forming on my face. There he was. My husband, fast asleep. The man I had loved and spent almost my entire life with was somehow here, alive and holding my hand once again after all these years. He still looked so beautiful, even in his old age. The blackness returned, and I woke up again to my husband's face. This was repeated continuously. Sometimes he was asleep, other times his eyes were looking back at me as he smiled. Now I didn't want this to end. At this point, I figured out what was happening, I think. I was moving through each day of my life, starting from the very end, for just a few seconds. Waking up within each morning, to see a glimpse of that part of my life. I was falling backwards through time. I woke up next to my husband hundreds of more times. Sometimes, I'd reach out and give him a small kiss, or pull him in for a close embrace. It felt like it would never end, and I didn't want it to. It now began to feel like the blackness had returned a few thousand times. I could now start to see my husband looking younger. A little colour was returning to his hair. The wrinkles were fading from his face. I could even see some muscles returning to his body, which made me smile. I travelled through several more years. Maybe even a few decades, but I wasn't counting. Sometimes little things would change. We'd wake up in a hotel room, or suddenly he’d have a very thick beard that slowly grew shorter. I felt younger in my own body, and my husband looked like he was reaching his thirties himself. I didn't want to leave this. I didn't want to lose this man again, and yet he had no idea what I was going through. I woke from the blackness again and saw something different. Lying peacefully asleep, between my husband and I, was our daughter. Once more, I was flooded with a wave of emotions. She looked to be only six years old. This must have been the very last time she crawled into our bed, afraid of a nightmare or a thunderstorm. I noticed her eyelids fluttering as she dreamed, completely unaware of the gorgeous old woman I would watch her grow up to be. I blacked out again. When I woke up, she was gone. I began travelling through several more years. Sometimes, I'd see my daughter again, but most days she wasn’t there. However after she vanished for a few hundred days, I realized she was gone, once more. God, please no! I just wanted to see my baby girl one more time. It wasn't long after that when my husband suddenly vanished too. There I was again, alone. I laid there, peacefully, and watched as the bedroom around me changed into my old university dorm, but I wasn't paying attention to it. My thoughts were locked around my husband and my daughter. My dorm faded again, and I woke up in another bedroom. This one was much smaller. It was covered in posters, pictures, and pillows. Dirty laundry was sprawled across the floor. I recognized it right away; it was my childhood bedroom. I hadn't been there in more than seventy years. It was just one more thing flashing in front of me that I thought I'd never see again. It felt like I was flying through years now. The pictures on the walls and the items on my dresser were changing. I could feel myself growing younger. I opened my eyes, and there I was. Laying in a different bedroom, sandwiched between two other bodies. It was my parents. This must've been the very last time I crawled into their bed, afraid of a nightmare or a thunderstorm. My heart felt tired from all the emotions I'd gone through, yet there I was again. Looking at the faces of the two great people who'd raised me into who I was. I felt so small compared to them. But once again, it was all gone within a few seconds. I continued down this tumble through my life. Occasionally, my parents would flash in front of me for a few seconds. My bedroom began to fill itself with more toys and stuffed animals. I could tell that I was quickly approaching the end. The world around me grew bigger, but my bed grew smaller with me until it transformed into a small crib. I found myself, once again, panicking at the thought of what was going on around me. It was only several moments ago that I had accepted death. I had said one last goodbye. Yet, here I was. Wanting to cling to all of these people who made up my life. I didn't want to let go. Life wouldn't leave me when I was ready for it, but now that I was no longer ready, I could feel it fleeing once again. I opened my eyes once more. I felt a large pair of arms wrapped around me. I laid naked and screaming, looking up at a young woman's face. It was my mother. I could see her tears sliding through her smooth young cheeks and into her dark hair, but she was smiling. She smiled because she could see what she had created. She brought me into this world and raised me into a great woman like herself. There I was, for a few final seconds, at the very beginning of my life, until I felt it all fade away into blackness once more; this time for good. \ This is my first time posting here. I put two hours aside this morning to write this after I was struck with some inspiration. The idea came from a WP over on that sub, but it was deleted before I could write it, so I figured I'd post it here.