Traffic Lights

My birthday was just a day after the first day of winter. Every year, while I was blowing out my candles, I had wished for the same thing - snow. And each year, my wish came true. Sometimes the snow would fall before my birthday, and I would end up wishing for more snow. Sometimes it would come a week or so after, but I was just grateful to have my wish granted.

Perhaps it was just my luck that I lived in a cold area.

I had always wished for snow, because it looked pure. It looked fresh. It was a reminder that not everything in the world was bad.

The year of my seventeenth birthday was no different. I wished for snow that night and woke up to ice. It covered my house, the ground, and my car. Not exactly what I was hoping for, but a sign that it was very cold outside.

I had errands to run. Last minute Christmas shopping for people who probably didn't even give me a second thought when it came to gift giving.

That morning, I waited a couple hours for the ice to melt. I didn't want to drive on the icy streets. By the time I left, the roads near my house were full of puddles. But, as I drove towards the local shopping center, more and more patches of ice seemed to appear. I was driving slow - safety was more important than getting the best last-minute deals.

I was stopped at a red light and was at the front of the lane. The cars perpendicular to me drove on, each going just as slow as I was. It made me feel a little more comfortable.

While waiting I thought of how Christmas was going to go over. There were so many things going on and I bet that my life wasn't going to be the central topic during family dinner. Of course, most teenagers would be thrilled. But when you're ignored every other day of the year as well, it wouldn't hurt to have a little attention.

I watched as the light switched to yellow, and I was preparing to go.

A car whizzed by, trying to beat the light. It hit a patch of ice, and swerved.

The last thing I remembered was feeling a sharp pain in my chest.

❅

"Jan? Janny?" My mom shook me awake - which was weird since I wasn't sleeping. "We are going to go home for a second. Okay, baby?"

I nodded my head silently, strings of blonde falling into my face. I shoved them away with a shaking hand.

The injuries weren't that bad; I could still speak. I had obtained few cuts and bruises. The most painful thing I had experienced since the accident, was watching as only nurses passed through the door. No one had come to visit me.

It made me feel bad. I had been feeling quite upset before then. Not depressed, but just sad. My life had been put to ruins the year before. Not enough outside affection. Enough to make me loathe the world. That's why I refused to speak. The accident had been the final straw.

I was sentenced to a three day stay in the hospital so they could monitor the worst of my injuries. Which meant I got out on Christmas Eve. It wasn't a terrible thing, but I was guessing they just wanted an extra two-days worth of pay. I didn't say anything about that, though.

Since then, the only people who had been to see me were my parents and my grandparents. And to think, when I was giving out Christmas gifts the week before at school, everybody had been my "friend".

I shook the thoughts out of my head. There was no use in bothering myself with them.

A knock sounded on the door. I flinched at the noise, but that was my only response to the sound.