The Day(s) I Died {Book 1 - Completed}

5

sonder

(n.) the realization that each passerby has a life as vivid and complex as one's own

***

My fourth death wasn't exactly spectacular.

I was in Ohio and had just turned eighteen, which meant that, even if I was found running around the country like the almost-but-not-quite-dead lunatic I was, no one could throw me back in the system. That thought had set me at ease, which was a horrible mistake. I was living in a homeless shelter but had managed to snag a job at a grocery store nearby, and everything was going well.

So, naturally, something bad had to happen.

I was heading back to the shelter after finishing my early morning shift, my breath coming out in short puffs in front of my face as I pushed my way through the other passersby, when I heard the screaming.

"Get out of the way!" Someone hollered. "It lost control! Run!"

Spinning around with the others around me, I came to a halt when I spotted the bus plowing through stoplights and headed straight towards me. But my attention did not stay on the vehicle as it careened closer, the driver inside honking the horn frantically as he tried in vain to win a battle against locked tires and slippery brakes. No, instead my focus fell on a young woman, frozen fifteen-or-so feet in front of me, captivated by the scene.

And then I heard a deep voice shouting, and I turned to find a young man shoving through the onlookers, his eyes wild with panic as he fought to get to the woman.

"Vanessa!" he had bellowed, the pleading in his voice palpable, "Move!"

But Vanessa did not move, and when the bus hit her I think I heard his heart crack and felt the pain of his agony when he realized that the woman he loved was dead.

Or perhaps the pain came solely from the bus slamming into me. Either way, when I woke up my first thought was of that man and the Hell he had just entered. What must it be like, to lose the single person that rests in the center of your universe? Oh, how I'd wished that Vanessa had been the one with this strange gift of coming back to life; someone like Vanessa, whose unnamed suitor loved her so deeply, deserved the ability far more than I.

That thought brought on the fantasies of how wonderful it would be for the two to reunite. Every time I had thought about it, I'd envisioned shocked gasps, relieved laughter, joyous tears, and tight hugs.

Although Vanessa has not come to my mind recently, imagining Selah's reunion with Abel brings back the memories, and I suppose most of me expected for the kid to have a similar reaction when learning about her brother's return.

It is because of my misconceptions and wild imagination that I am confused and rather alarmed when—instead of bounding down the stairs and throwing her arms around Abel—Selah slaps a hand over her mouth and shakes her head slowly.

"No," she croaks. "How can he be here? He can't be here . . . how?" There are tears in her eyes, and they quickly start to streak down her face.

Oh, damnit!

"Whoa, Kid," I laugh nervously, entirely out of my comfort zone now. "Please don't cry."

She nods but doesn't stop, instead moving her hand to try and wipe at the tears trailing down her cheeks. "You mean it?" her voice is clogged with emotion. "He came back?"

Those words are more along the lines of what I envisioned; I crack a tiny smile even as my heart breaks. "I mean it. He's downstairs, if you want to see him."