Lily lay looking into the dark of the ceiling, listening. Her heart pounded in the silence of the ghastly walls. She wished it tore and choked instead. But it kept beating, to her dismay.
The signal woke Peter up. He rushed out of his bedroom. They had agreed she would only press the red button once. The last 1461 sleepless nights made him look older by sixteen years, at least.
“Yes, honey,” the enthusiasm of the 24-year-old man was wearing off.
And then the words. The heavy words he could distinguish among the myriad of noises.
“Pull… the plug, Peter, you can’t live with me like… this.”
“I’ve made a promise, dear, I’ll keep it as long as I have breath in my lungs,” determined, he hugged the limbless body of his young wife, and fell asleep.