Have you
ever heard something you couldn’t explain? I’m not talking about something as
benign as scratching or perhaps a creaking board in the house at night. No, I’m
talking about words, either spoken aloud or whispered through the air.
You see, at
first I thought I might be going insane. It all started after a car accident.
The twelve-car pile-up occurred this past winter when the roads iced over,
making travel on the highways at high speeds incredibly dangerous. It was just
too bad some drivers didn’t seem to understand that.
Being in the center of all of those
cars meant that it took time to reach me … time I didn’t necessarily have.
The car next to me was facing the
opposite direction, her driver’s side door pressed against my own. With our
windows shattered, there was nothing between us, and with both of us being
conscious, we were able to keep each other alert.
We both sustained serious injuries
in the crash, and tried our damnedest to keep fighting until help arrived,
talking about our lives and such. There was no question that we were on
borrowed time, as we each had blood flowing freely from our heads.
It was obvious that the lady next
to me, Ashley, was in far worse shape. She sat slumped in her seat, her head
against the doorframe, one eye completely swollen shut. When she began
coughing, which led to a massive nosebleed, I knew it wouldn’t be long.
“I need to confess something. Can
you please get the message to my fiancé?”
Not having the heart to tell her
that I’d likely never survive to do it, I decided to give her the peace of mind
that she obviously needed, and agreed.
“I have no reason to be on this
stretch of highway, and he’ll know that. I need him to know that I’m sorry. I
want him to be happy.” She paused to catch her breath after another round of
shallow coughs before continuing. “His name is Alexander Rushing. I planned to
end things between us, because I just don’t return the feelings to the same
extent as he does. You see, I’ve been seeing someone else, and I’m in love.
Please tell him …” More coughing, this time there’s blood at the corner of her
mouth. “Tell him I’m sorry, and to be happy. Find someone who’ll love him the
way he deserves.” She finished on a whisper, and I swear I could actually see
the life leave her eyes.
After that I was alone with nothing
but my thoughts and her final confession running through my head. Man, I hurt.
The odd thing was, it was beginning to become bearable. This should not be
happening as I had a huge piece of glass protruding from my left side. That was
bad enough, so I tried not to dwell on the amount of blood in my lap, or the
fact that my body was going cold and numb. And didn’t it just figure that I’d
see the paramedics just as my eyes decided to refuse to stay open?
I recall my own death—as if that’s
not weird enough—and there was no bright light involved. Admittedly this
freaked me out. I mean, I consider myself to be a good person and all, but
there was just nothing. No choirs of angels, no hellfire and brimstone, just a
shadowy place with no discernable dimensions.
It’s rather alarming to realize
that there is no floor, ceiling or walls, just a thick gunmetal gray fog that
you’re floating through. Even worse is when you start to feel something pushing
you. Phantom hands that seemed to be shoving me away from them, herding me in
some unknown direction, perhaps even toward some unseen precipice only to
hurdle me over.
I kept hearing disembodied voices
almost shouting in my head, urgent words telling me to “Go now”, “Go back”,
“Not yet”. All I could think was, go
where? It’s not like there was a door I could slip through.
The final shove I received was
brutal, centered on my chest and punctuated with a hissed, “Go!”
I feel a physical impact, I guess
it’s me returning to my body, but it could be from the behemoth that’s bouncing
on my chest.
“I’ve got a pulse!”
Boy that guy is loud.
“Still no breath sounds on the
left. I need a chest tube kit!”
Wow, I sure hope whomever they’re
talking about makes it.
“Resume bagging.”
Bagging? What in the world is ba—Holy shit! I felt a huge amount of air
fill my lungs—lung?—that I did not
take in. It finally dawned on me that perhaps they’d been talking about me this
whole time.
I tried to move, to show them that
I was aware, but my body wouldn’t respond. It felt like I was just tagging
along for the ride, only I could feel everything
now. I felt when something cold and wet was squirted on my side, followed by
the gentle probing of fingers along my ribs, which brought an insane amount of
pain with it, but nothing could have prepared me for the sudden, sharp cutting
just before something was shoved into my chest.
It was too much, too intense, and I
welcomed the calming blackness that enveloped me.
The next time I opened my eyes it
was to see an I.V. pole towering above my head to the right, a monitor beeping
somewhere nearby, and the odd sensation of something filling my mouth and
throat.
When I attempted to reach up and
remove it, I found my hands restrained.
What
the hell?
The incessant beeping increased
it’s speed and a moment later a stout woman in scrubs burst into the room,
looked me over, and smiled wide before exclaiming, “You’re awake!”
Well,
no shit, I thought, arching a brow her way.
“Let me page the doctor and I’ll be
right back.” And she was off.
Great, there’s no telling when
she’ll actually come back in.
To my eternal surprise, she
returned in mere minutes, fussing around, taking my vital signs, shining a damn
light in my eyes, wanting me to follow her finger … Hello! You just blinded me with that stupid light thing, and now you
think I can see your finger?
“You’re doing great, hon. Maybe we
can get that tube out now that you’re awake. It looks like you’re breathing
over the ventilator now.”
Yes!
Take this thing out so I can talk! I manage a few jerky nods to show my
agreement, and this seems to do the trick.
The nurse leaves the room and
within the hour, there’s a doctor coming in to do his assessment and remove my
tube. Which was gross. Now my throat hurts, I’ve got phlegm like nobodies
business, and I really want my own bed and a pint of ice chocolate ice cream.
Alone in my room, I finally managed
to take stock of my situation. I’d been out of it for three days according to
the nurse, and they had left the tube down my throat as a precaution, since I
was unconscious and sporting a chest tube from a collapsed lung. On top of that
I had a few busted ribs, fractured wrist, and a concussion. Yeah, I was a hot mess and totally wishing I
could have just waited to wake up until all of this was healed.
A few nights later, I awoke to a
voice in my room. It took a while before I could make out what the woman was
saying, but I soon realized she was simply repeating herself.
“Please be okay. You have to tell
him. Please be okay. You have to tell him,” she chanted, shifting from one foot
to the other as she stood in the corner.
She looked somewhat familiar, but I
couldn’t place her, so I did what most people do and continued to stare at her
until it came to me.
And there was my mistake.
She suddenly stopped moving and speaking,
looking back at me as if I’d somehow surprised her.
“What?” I asked, looking down to
make sure that all the important parts were still covered by the flimsy
hospital gown and sheet.
“You can see me?” Was she serious?
“Of course I
can see you. I hear you too. I was sleeping until you showed up.”
She crept
closer to the bed, almost like she was scared. Of me? I was banged all to hell,
just what did she expect me to do?
It wasn’t
until she came to the bedside that I noticed something that had me choking back
a scream. I could see straight through her!
“It’s me,
Ashley. Do you remember? You promised to tell my fiancé. You have to let Alexander know how sorry I
am,” she wailed.
Ashley? As in the girl from the
wreck, the girl I watched die right next to me? But how?
And that, ladies and gentlemen, is
how my life went from ordinary to are-you-freaking-kidding-me in an instant.
My name is Kara, welcome to my new
life.
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