Writing Drafts (Experiment)

The Angel That Lies

I always thought I'd maybe die by suicide, either intentionally or unintentionally.

Maybe I'd just finally had enough of my sole reason for living being to work towards an unachievable goal, or I'd drank one too many that night. Hell, maybe I'd even taken a cig that was laced with something wayyy stronger than I'd been used to.

It all happened so fast, I didn't even register the pain until I'd looked down at myself. My leg was stuck in place, broken and impaled into concrete by one of the poles that had been on the bus. My hands were laying atop of a field of glass shards, some of them already having dug their way into my skin. My head is what hurt the most though. It felt like someone had stabbed a knife into my brain.

It wasn't until I tried to move that I got a glimpse of myself in a larger shard. Sticking out the back of my head was a shiny piece of metal, which I can only assume was from one of the chairs.

I don't even know how I survived for as long as I did. My guess is that it hadn't directly pierced anything that would cause immediate death until I had moved enough.

I couldn't help it, though. I wanted to see if anyone had survived that wreck. That surely, the mom with the kid who was crying about wanting to go see the new Disney movie didn't suffer an equally gruesome fate. Or the teenage girl who was quite loudly chatting with her friend over the phone about her boyfriend. Or the old man who gave his seat to the pregnant woman.

All of them. Every single one. Either dead, or would be in a couple of minutes.

The worst part were the screams and cries. Especially the ones from the three kids that had been on the bus that day. Just pure agony was all I could hear. I think I had my own fair share of crying, but I couldn't tell over the sounds of everyone else.

The dust soon began to clear, and a crowd began to form. To their credit, some of them did try to help instead of just standing around. One guy even tried to get the pole out of my leg. But they soon retreated to safety once the area around us burst into flames.

The screaming got worse, and I refused to look this time.

The one thing I'm thankful for, is that I blacked out just as the flame began to spread towards me.

"Why...?" Was all I managed to say before it all went dark.
---

I don't remember how long I was in that void for. Maybe it was only a couple of minutes. Maybe hours. Maybe centuries, even.

All I remember is suddenly being able to feel my breath again. Then, I regained my sense of touch. I wasn't fully conscious, but I could tell that I was somewhere different than the crash site. I felt smooth plastic, then fabric against firm material.

Next came my hearing, and I could hear the voices of the other people in the room. I couldn't make out exactly what anyone was saying, but there was a lot of talk about "heaven" and "dying".

When I finally opened my eyes, I was speechless.

It was a completely different scene from the harrowing experience I'd just had. I was sitting in some sort of waiting room. The walls were painted cream, and there were a couple of small tables scattered about that held decorative plants and magazines. I was sitting next to one of them. One of the titles caught my eye, and I picked up a magazine featuring a pale-skinned businesswoman on the cover. She was smiling, and the way her hand was posed made it seem like she was holding the words up.

The mag was titled "How To Make a Profit after Your Untimely Demise". There was also a tiny sentence with an asterisk at the bottom, saying "only applicable to guardian angels".