Lipstick Answers

I know it’s amateur, & I have no plans of trying to publish it, but should I continue writing it?
The last thing I could remember was the intensely light sensation of falling; wind blew up toward the sky with my hair as one, as my eyes looked up to the clouds & the sun for the last glimpse of light that would ever reach my lifetime. I knew I was about to die, & I wasn’t concerned about pain, I was only worried about what would happen after the next few seconds were over. I didn’t feel the impact, I didn’t feel an ounce of pain, all I could feel was a calm sense of euphoria, as the end of my life was a more peaceful experience than I had expected.
I didn’t exactly black out; It was a little bit more complicated. I felt like sunshine in a way, light, calm, not quite excited, not exactly scared, but numb with pleasure. I was dying nearly happily. Something I didn’t expect.
I woke up in bed. It was not a familiar bed & the sheets crinkled with every twitch of my surprisingly un-sore body. Light emanated through a large window with a spectacular view of a sunrise; streaks of pink-tinted golden light danced on pale white walls. Elegant lighting gave the room an sense of timeless beauty, & pale blue carpet looked soft & welcoming. I was the room’s only tenant & there were no other beds, so under the strange circumstances, I was glad to have my own room.
Reality struck me in the face with a harsh blow as I remember what had happened. I was on the fourth floor of the school; in the rooftop garden. I had been studying plants in AP biology & had left my notebook. I went back up to get it, & I walked to the edge of the roof (if you look around a large building, you can see the ocean), & fell from leaning too far over the edge, down 4 stories, & into the hard ground. At least my last moments were to see the ocean.
The door of the room opened & a kind-looking woman walked in wearing a clean, pressed, white outfit, made for a nurse. She had a deep tan, with auburn hair pulled into a tight ponytail, then the loose hair waved about 1/3 ways down her back. She had deep chocolate- brown eyes & perfect, ultra white teeth under full, deep red-lipstick-stained lips. She approached me with a clipboard under her arm, & a welcoming look in her eyes.
“Hello Indigo, my name is Martha.” She said. “I know that this is confusing, but you need to relax, okay Hon?” I nodded. I attempted to ask her “What is going on?” but my voice wouldn’t emit any sound. I mouthed the words as tears swelled up in my eyes- a clear case of panic- & the salty tears rolled down my cheeks, & over my soundless mouth.
“Sssssshhhhh, honey, ssshhhhh.” Martha set the clipboard down with well-manicured fingernails & embraced me. I didn’t know this woman, but her touch felt oddly familiar. I didn’t know this woman, I didn’t understand what was going on, & all that I could do was cry. I don’t know for how long, but I just sat there in this stranger’s- Martha’s- arms.
When my eyes were swollen & held no more tears, I looked at Martha. She was still just as calm as she had when she walked in. She looked back down with a sympathetic look in her eyes & spoke.
“Listen, before you get too overwhelmed, let me tell you that your voice will come back, & everything will be just fine. You are in a, well, sort of a hospital. We call it a recovery center.” I looked at her with what felt like a confused expression.
“Don’t be alarmed, please don’t be scared, but your dead. ” I didn’t know I could cry anymore, but I did. And she continued.
“I suppose this is a sort of heaven, & I will get into more detail about that when you feel better. It is run like any place that was on earth. It isn’t exactly like earth, but is is very similar. Time continues, we have a sky, but there is no war. There is no hunger. There is little turmoil that creates serious danger. You will see your family & friends again one day, but not very soon. You will learn to understand, I promise.”
I couldn’t very well process the situation, & I suppose I went into a state of shock. For the next few days, I ate when I was given food, I watched when they turned on strange, new looking movies with actors that should be dead, but were alive & young again. I saw Meralyn Monroe, James Dean, Humphrey Bogart, all acting even better than they had before. The nurse- Martha- was extremely kind; bringing the food, changing the channels, showing me to a shower & clean clothes. But I wasn’t really there. Or that’s at least how I felt. Numb.
After about a week under Martha’s care, I began to get my voice back. It was small, & I didn’t want to talk, so I didn’t let anyone know. Martha would sit next to me in the day & just talk. I didn’t want to be alone & she somehow knew it. She would ask me simple yes or no questions, to which I would nod or shake my head. She wouldn’t tell me abut where we are, or what was going on, I suppose it wa

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