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Bad ending

Short story based off of Sally and her story. read that one here first for context. these are not my characters, and if anyone has a problem with this story, let me know.

It’s December 24th. You sit on the couch, next to your beloved wife. The warm fireplace crackles, the dancing flames casting shadows on the wall. Tinsel strung, tree decorated, and children in bed. All the presents are wrapped and under the tree. You look down at sally. Those beautiful eyes, so full of life, even now. You lean in for a kiss. For what feels like an eternity, the two of you lock lips, her cold, wet nose to yours. You smile, drawing away.
“Do you think they know?” she asks. You ask her to clarify.
“That we put the gifts out, not Santa?” she responds. You tell her that it doesn't really matter, so long as your children enjoy their new  toys. She snuggles up under your chin. How did you ever get so lucky? Then again, how did you even get here? This is all so strange, even twenty years from now. Your anniversary will be coming up in a few months… It feels so recent. The crash, the bar… you’d never thought you’d say this, but you’re so happy that you wrecked your car that day. She smiles at you, resting her hand on your shoulder. She’s getting sleepy now, and so are you. Both of you drift off into the night.
The next morning, even your alarm clock sounds sleepy. Beeping much slower than usual. You feel the warm bed behind you. You reach out to your wife, but nobody is there. Is she already up? Weren’t you two on the couch last evening? You try to turn off the alarm. Beep… beep… beep… why is it so slow? Your eyelids feel heavy, like you’ve been asleep for months. You struggle to open them. Then it hits you, like a car slamming into a tree. The cold, white walls of a hospital room surround you. No, no, no… your worst fears emerge. Where is Sally?! Where are your kids?! What were their names?! What did they look like? The memory of a happy home and life fade from you like a dream. You try to get up, but you can't. You can’t feel your legs. You struggle. Your arms are so weak. Almost like…

Almost like you haven’t moved in the last twenty years....
The beeping. A machine sits next to you, hoses connected to your chest  and arms. It burns badly.

“Nurse!” you call, hoping desperately to see a cat, or a dog, or some animal walk in. She's a human. She looks at you like you have three heads.
“You’re awake!” she breathes. “Oh, my word… Well, your parents will be thrilled! Shall I get them on the phone?” she asks politely, evidently containing her surprise.
“Where’s Sally?! My wife?!” you demand, your hope fading. You look to your hand.

No ring.

“Sir, you… you don’t have a wife, none on record. Ever,” She apologizes. “It’s entirely likely that you suffered cognitive trauma from the crash. It severed your spine, after all.”

You can’t believe it. No. you begin to cry. You can’t take this. You look over to the machine connected to you, keeping you alive, with one strong tug, the cables come loose. You feel something shift in your chest, like a knife poking at your heart. The machine emits a long, flat tone, as darkness consumes you. A world without Sally is not one you want to live in.
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Added: 1 year ago
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