Writer's Digest runs regular competitions called "Your Story" where authors must write a story based on an image prompt. I tried my hand at "Your Story #131". Here is a copy of my entry while I wait to hear if I am among the five finalists.
Julia’s therapist reminded her regularly that people channeled their grief in different ways. When Tatiana suddenly fell into a coma just after her 13th birthday, Julia’s world crumbled, but Paul continued to work. She couldn’t understand how he could move on so easily. When Julia exploded after a year of avoidance and resentment, she screamed with tears and hateful words. He was a soulless monster who didn’t understand her pain. She yelled for him to leave.
That was two years ago, so she was surprised to see his name on her phone when it rang. Maybe he finally wanted to file for a divorce, she thought. Instead, he invited her to his lab. She didn’t have time to go to his office, she explained. She was on her way to see Tatiana.
Their daughter, she added.
He said he was testing a new virtual reality simulator at his lab in the hospital. Paul walked away from a promising career to focus on game design. His salary took a hit, but it was still comfortable enough for Julia to stay unemployed and with Tatiana. However, the hospital expenses were piling up, and this new game could be the answer.
His lab was easy to find. It was on the third floor, directly above Tatiana’s room. She slowly opened the door and entered a small room with servers lining the walls. Cold air circulated the room, and she heard the muffled noise of the machines behind glass doors. Only one was open, with a keyboard pulled out. Next to it sat Paul on a wheeled stool.
Paul looked up and smiled. He got up to hug her, but she stepped back, bumping into one of the glass doors.
“I’m sorry,” he said, then pulled a white helmet from the open cabinet.
“Why is your lab in her hospital?” She asked.
“Please sit here,” he said softly and gently. “I promise…”
His voice trailed off as he pointed to the stool.
She snatched the helmet from his hands and sat down. From their newlywed years, she knew what to do. She used to love his passion and talent for developing immersive worlds populated with beautiful landscapes and magical beings. That was before she realized that he preferred to live in those fantasies.
She placed the helmet over her head, and her eyes widened immediately. She was not looking at the realistic desert before her but at a row of children standing on a ridge, staring at the bright orange sunset. Transparent bubbles surrounded each of them, but it was the second child that caught her attention. It was Tatiana.
She removed the helmet and saw Paul sitting on another stool directly before her.
“How dare you use her image for your stupid game,” she said.
“That is her,” he said. “Well, her consciousness. Those children are unable to communicate. We are so close to giving them a voice. We can’t yet interact with them directly, but this is a first step.”
He paused for a moment.
“This is our most recent test,” he continued. “We are showing them images, and they are reacting to them.”
“When…” Julia started.
“I started this project just a few weeks after she wouldn’t wake up.”
Julia started crying. She placed one hand over her face as she sobbed. Paul grabbed the helmet from her hands.
“I couldn’t bring her back,” he said. “So I decided to take you to her. I am sorry it took so long, but I finally have a stable platform.”
He placed the helmet gently back onto her head. She recognized each child from the ward below them. They were full of life, staring in awe at the gorgeous sky. Julia smiled for the first time in years as she watched Tatiana reach out.
“Thank you,” she whispered, realizing how he channeled his grief.
