Haze of Desolation

Prologue: The Accident

Numbly I sat, barely processing the waiting room and individuals around me. My eyes were unfocused as I stared at the blank wall opposite me, my surroundings blurring through my tears. Nearby, just barely breaking through my reverie, I could hear the low voices of doctors and nurses discussing the various fates of the many patients committed to this hospital. I could also hear the distant, anguished cries of some poor woman- a childless mother, or a newly widowed wife perhaps. Honestly, I didn't really care. The sound of her grief barely penetrated my mind. All I could think about was Rose, my sweet daughter, my young daughter; my dying daughter.

Three doors down from where I was sitting, my daughter laid in a hospital bed, the white blanket strewn over her body hardly covering the stitches and bandages that enclosed her torso and head. I had left the room almost immediately after seeing her unresponsive body, finding it unbearable to see my beautiful child in that state.

Now I sit here on this cold, uncomfortable bench, in a cold, uncomfortable hospital, my head in my hands as my entire world crumbles around me.

It was my fault.

As I sat praying for my daughter, these words rang through my mind over and over, their accusations stinging . She was lying there, in that godforsaken room, because of me; because of my inadequacy as a parent. I've failed completely as a parent, as a protector. I deserve to be in that hospital bed, not my little angel. I had left her in the front yard alone while I went to grab my phone from inside. And in the two minutes I had left her alone, she had wandered into the street. A young man, barely old enough to drive, turned the corner, and was momentarily distracted by the sun suddenly in his eyes. But a moment was long enough. So now, because of my complete worthlessness as a parent, she was comatose less then 10 meters away from where I sat.

Suddenly, I felt a hand on my shoulder. I lifted my head, and through my helpless tears I could see a grim-faced nurse. By her look alone, I knew that the news that was coming would be bad. Instantly, I retreated into myself, trying to block everything out. I didn't want to hear what she had say. But despite my best efforts, some of her words still filtered through my depression.

I'm sorry... unknown brain trauma... consciousness highly unlikely... unresponsive... I'm sorry.

The nurse kept apologizing, like some somehow her words would help me, would make this horrible situation better. At some point in the nurse's little spiel, I interrupted her by shaking my head. I didn't want to hear anymore. Nothing she said to me was going to make this more bearable. Nothing would. Numb, I stood up, and pushed past the nurse. I kept walking straight towards the exit, leaving the nurse standing behind me in disbelief and confusion of my reaction. I ignored her stunned expression, and kept walking.

Nothing was ever going to make this better.

I stood on the edge of the bridge, feeling the wind rustle through my loose auburn hair. The thin white blouse I wore didn't resist the cold, and the wind nipped at my skin as I stood there. I closed my eyes, and imagined my beautiful daughter one final time. I knew she wasn't going to wake up, and it was all my fault. The thoughts of guilt and grief and pain swirled through my mind, crashing and screaming, and I realized I couldn't take it anymore. There was nothing left for me. There was no reason for me to live, when my daughter never would.

I recalled a specific memory of my daughter. It was her latest birthday, when she turned eight. She looked so excited as she ripped open one last present, a small tube of pink lip gloss from an aunt. I remember the smile on her face as she spun around to show me the tiny cylinder, and the eagerness shining in her eyes as she begged me to help her apply it. It was the happiest I'd seen her in a while.

With this final thought in mind, I took a step forward. My foot met nothing but air, and my body fell forward. My eyes were still closed, and I only experienced the air whooshing past my limp body.

Moments before impact, a small smile played across my lips.