ESSEX, ENGLAND | 5 MONTHS EARLIER
It happened really fast.
Louis had been on his way back from the store. He'd finally broken down and gone, remembering that with Niall off in Mullingar for the month, he'd actually have to fend for himself for a while. He remembers the quietness as he drove home, the only decipherable sound the incessant tumbling about of the satchel of apples in his backseat.
It happened really fast.
He never saw the car. He only felt the moment of impact, being lifted from the ground violently and sliding, sliding, sliding; the sound of crumpling metal screaming in his ear. In the span of what felt like an eternity, which in reality was surely only a few seconds, Louis felt his fear and shock melt into an eerie calm. He didn't feel the sharp edges of pain, didn't feel much of anything really at first, his brain slipped into some weird state of flux, where all he heard was white noise.
It happened really fast. And it wasn't at all like it is in the movies.
There were no immediate ambulance sirens, or police, or some stranger running to his rescue asking 'are you alright?'. No one saying 'stay calm. help is on the way.'
It happened really fast and Louis was alone. Time felt like it slowed down and for what felt like an eternity he'd wondered if anyone was coming, if anyone would ever come. He remembers the breath leaving his lungs. He remembers not being able to move his right leg without searing pain. He remembers a dull ache settling in the side of his head. He remembers the shift - that turning point when your whole world is suddenly being set off-kilter without any kind of warning and you either fight it or you let it take you under. And he thinks maybe he felt everything slip away in that moment and for a split second he remembers letting it go freely, deciding to stop fighting.
He didn't see his life flash before his eyes or anything like that. He didn't think of all the people he loved, the people he'd hurt, the people he might never have the chance to see again.
Those thoughts hadn't come until later.
He can't remember how long he'd waited for help, staring through the hazy image of the cracked glass of his windshield, a kaleidoscope of red, red apples rolling across the street.
It had come eventually.
He'd learned from the doctors later that he'd blacked out several times after being hit. He took their word for it, even though he never remembers any blackness, only gapes in time that he can't account for.
When he thinks back on that day, he sees things in flashes.
He remembers the hospital, the way it smelled like disinfectant. He remembers Liam speaking with the triage nurse after hanging up with his mum. He remembers Zayn squeezing his hand in the examination room. He remembers almost throwing up when he saw the state of his knee, and then becoming ill for a very different reason, suddenly feeling his whole carefully constructed life start to slip away. He remembers pulling on Zayn's fingers then, worried eyes saying everything his voice couldn't. Zayn had looked down at him and stopped him with a phrase. Louis can't remember exactly, but it was something like 'we'll worry about it later, mate. just be grateful you're alive.'
He remembers how the words had stuck with him, made him feel funny. He remembers how that feeling never left him, even after the shock of the accident had worn off and he was safe at home with his mum and sisters.
Those words had made him feel like he wanted to escape his own skin, rearrange, fix something he wasn't completely sure of yet.
Even after the news that he was expected to make a full recovery, that his life would go back to normal soon, he never felt that sense of relief he'd so desperately expected to. It never came. Even though it was being offered to him with no strings attached, his perfect life back to him, like this accident was only just a bump in the road, Louis never felt like he could accept it for some reason. It had felt almost wrong, allowing himself to go back.
