Imperfect | est. 2015

56. Replay

I'd never thought that coincidences, in the world, were anything special. I never thought that they were there to give out special messages or to show that there was either hope or no hope, they just happened the way they happened; a coincidence. And the day that I realized that it had to have been something more than that, was the day when all the hopelessness that'd showed up that summer seemed to just come together. There was no way in explaining it. It's just the way that it'd happened. As if flashback after flashback, I could just piece together all the things that were going to be a part of what was next. Another crazy but simple coincidence.

-

And again, as Connor and I drove on the road that I was no longer afraid of, I stared down to the end of the pavement. There was nothing there that could've made me feel nervous when we'd drive past that one tree or that same road sign. They were just there the way they'd always been; and to me, now, it was just another road with another tragic story. Of coarse, there was still that weight in my chest whenever I could picture things the way it happened. There was no doubt in my mind that that scar would always be there; but it was easier to handle.

And as soon as we were driving down that road again, in the same familiar place, I had my hand on the radio and Connor and I were just having another normal conversation, like we used to. Everything just seemed normal. For once, in the entirety of all those incredibly, terrible few months; I felt like we could just pretend that nothing ever happened, and things were okay.

But then there was the feeling in my gut; the feeling as if I knew something bad was going to happen. Never, would I have some sort of prediction, like the way that I did, but that time, I actually did. Usually, a moment would just seem perfect, then something would just, abruptly, shoot in the way of it. But this time, I felt something. And then there was the first flash back.

The headlights of the truck on my left. Then, second after second, it went from the sounds of shattering glass to the explosion of an airbag. Next, I could almost feel the intensity of hitting my head on roof of the car.

I moved my hand between the seat of me and Connor, and just locked my eyes where they were, in front of us, before. Then he stops talking, "What's wrong?"

Then I narrowed my eyes, when another one came along;

My mother reaching back, trying to save one of us, before the car was already throwing everybody out of their seats. Christopher going completely silent, at my side, while I just watched everything around me shoot into all different colors, as if I was drowning in an illusion of shock.

"Skylar, what's going on?"

The car stops rolling. I'm sitting there with the hazy realization that the pavement was no longer set below me, and to my right, passed the intense indentation of the ceiling, I could see pale and innocent Christopher; sitting there in his seat with his little dinosaur.

When I looked up and stared at the little car in front of us, I starting connecting dots. In the car ahead, there was a family. In the front seats, I could see the two parents; and in the back, I saw the kids. I had no idea how old any of them were, but the recognizable details of it all, just took an instant toll on my reaction, "Connor, pull over," I said; at first, calmly. He took a second just to glance at me. And as he asked me why, I just flinched at another flashback;

My music could still be softly heard through my headphones, where ever they'd been launched to, in the car. And I could suddenly just feel the heavy silence. The steam and smoke rising from the car, I could only see the dust and blurriness swarming around me, while I was slowly starting to bleed from my painless injuries. I was losing all control I had in staying awake and snapping out of it.