Stuck In Time

Stuck In Time-The Forgotten

Hey. I'm Carson. I’m your average -17 year old girl. I love to sports, and I'm a die hard Phillies fan.That's how it all started. All I know is that this year, I’m actually going to use the journal Aunt Grace gave to me as a birthday present. I never wanted to keep my thoughts down on paper. It would keep reminding me of everything that I can’t remember...which means it’ll be true-I can’t remember anything.  And I don’t really know what to write about.......

 I guess I really should write about the horrid night that car took away my memory...and my dad. Brace yourself unidentified reader, because the life of me, all of it, is one big bowl of crap.

As I was coming home from a Phillies game with my dad in the driver’s seat and his buddies in the back, the only thing I could think of was how fun the night is when the people you were with get a foul ball, bought you all the ice cream you can eat, and mooned the camera. Singing along to a Ke$ha song on the radio and dancing in the seat, high from all the junk food, I realized that Dad’s friends were getting a little out of control in the back. As i turned around, two of them were in a corny-yet-intense game of Thumb War while the last guy practically broke the seat belt dancing to the beat of the radio and yelling at anyone in other cars that were looking. And I’m pretty sure they couldn’t hear him...which was probably a good thing. Sticking to my senses I turned down the radio a tad, then a tad more, then more, when finally it was quiet enough to barely hear the words. I knew the last guy wouldn’t be able to comprehend right away, knowing he was drunk, so my plan turned out to work. He was still dancing, but at least i could hear myself think, and watch the game of Thumb Wars. My dad winked at me, giving me the sign of a job well done, while his eyes never leaving the road. I have always admired my dad-he knows how to have fun but stays amazingly safe when the time comes. Again-sounds corny, but it’s a hard core fact. It didn’t help tonight.

I saw the last drunk guy getting angry out of the rear view mirror, so i turned the music back up. But as I did, we hit a bump in the road, my hand jolted to the side, turning the music up blaring, having a heartbeat in our ears. The drunks in the back practically screamed, and with all the noise, it’s no wonder my dad got distracted and took his hand off the wheel to turn down the music and yell at the guys in the back. As he did, one of the men’s(he was the least drunk out of the 3)  eyes got wide and dark with terror. I felt a swerve and my head jerked to the right, hitting on the glass, red starting to appear. My dad looking confused and shaken with worry as he kept his eyes locked into mine wishing he could help. Noticing his slow reactant, I realized he was a little drunk too, and being scared and paranoid, my eyes pulled out of his grasp and onto the road- just in time to see a car heading our way-about 2 feet from crashing into us. I leaned farthest to the right, trying not to get hurt again, while screaming “Dad!” at the top of my lungs. Turns out that swerve was our car going into the wrong lane, and with everything happening so fast, all the adults in the car close to passing out and my head pounding with pain, we could do nothing to stop what was going to happen next. 

I woke up in a hospital. I woke up in a hospital....that’s all i remember. I don’t remember details anymore-I now have short term memory from the hit. With my memory, the docs said I will probably forget from either a couple hours time to almost a full day. It’s usually the hours parts.  Apparently the doctor said i’ll only remember tragic or huge events in my life also-that’s how I remember that night crystal clear. All I can remember from being in the hospital was me screaming about how my dad can’t be dead, and how it’s all just a dream.  Remembering my aunt’s face that night-the one that makes me cry every time i think of it, is a curse. The one that has so much shock, sorrow, fear, and desperation in it, it looks like she could never recover. 

Oh! My aunt! My aunt Grace has been taking care of me ever since the accident. You might be wondering..where’s my mother?! Well, my stupid mother practically left us. She said she was going grocery shopping one night. She never came back. That was 4 years before the accident. I didn’t know what to think of my own 'mommy'.  She was my role model. Now, I just don’t think about her, or even think to call her my mother.  I hate her. Thank goodness for Grace. She moved in with me, not making me move in with her, and go to a new school and everything. I'm very thankful to have her in my life. Without her, I'de practically be nothing.

My best friend Ally desperately tries to understand me, but it comes to no use.  Anyways, she was my best friend before the car crash-that’s how i know she’s my real friend-not just some sympathetic loser who tries to become friends with me so she looks like she’s doing a good thing. Fortunantly, Ally sticks by my side, thick and thin, no matter what time of day. We'll always be there for each other, it's been like this even before the accident. Back then I was a realiable friend and could help her whenever possible. Now, I feel like I'm a poor, helpless freak. Handicapped, as others call it. I will never stoop that low as to call myself handicapped. My father wouldn't be proud of it.

As of now, I’m welling up in tears just writing about this. I still get signs from my dad, but I can't tell Grace. I’m always worried I’ll see that same face I saw in the hospital. It was so hard after he died, I always wanted to talk about it, at least once, to the one person who could understand best, but I knew i just couldn’t. I couldn’t do that to her. The signs are always special memories we had, and I fear I'll bring back the pain that hovered over us like dark clouds for weeks.  I guess you could say with all the fun i had that night, it was all worth it. That's probably the stupidest question I'll ever face, or remember rather. Nothing will ever compare to the horror I’m living to now. Every night I secretly hear my Grace cry. I get awful grades, because, no matter how long I study, I always forget the info. I'm even starting to forget...

I'm starting to forget what my father looks like.

It's truly terrible. I'm starting think anything good in the world doesn't exist. It's disguised, the smiles, the laughs, they all happen to cover up your true feelings of darkness inside. Never again will I try to make my own memory, because memories only lead to sadness. The happiness never lives. It eventually dies in us, and is replaced by the whining sorries of our lives. Where does happiness go? Does it travel deep into our thoughts, and only peaks out when the time is right? Or does it wash fully away, with all the other sparks of joy and wonder of the world? 

I’ll never be myself again-no matter what I do, what I pray, what I try, nothing seems to work. 

Now, for the big question, why did I go to a Phillies game? Why was this so important? 

My golden retreiver, Skittles, had run away, so far away that we couldn't  find a trace of her. We loved her dearly, and to this day I still miss her. That's when this all started, every drop of misery I suffer from now started on that rainy day. My dad had taken me to the doctor's office to get some sort of weird checkup, and when we were back, she was gone. We looked and looked, and for a week all I could shed was sorrow and tears. Eventually all hope was lost, and we gave up. Thinking it could help, my father bought me and a few of his buddies Phillies tickets, which we immediatly took. It really did help get my mind of Skittles for awhile into the game. I was so thankful for my dad. I was starting to think life couldn't really be that bad. 

Until 11:49 PM, Saturday night, Month of June, I, Carson Myers, had witnessed the person I loved most dissapear from the world forever. 

*Author's Note

Hey everyone! This is my first story on Wattpad. This wasn't even supposed to be a book, more like a short story written just for my entertainment. But I decided to publish it here and see what happens! 

When I first posted this chapter it wasn't too good, so I rewrote it. I'm pretty happy as to how it turned out. I know there are a couple run on paragraphs in this and I'm fully aware of it. I wrote this when I was younger. My writing(I hope) has improved considerably and I promise the next chapters are written better and overall, just happier. Then next couple of chapters also have sign after sign after sign, but it slows down to a normal pace of a regular book at like chapter 5. Please leave comments below telling me what I can work on and if you like it! Thanks!