Changes (An Elijah Johnson Story) Rewriting

Chapter 3

Elijah POV

I'm still reeling from the kiss. I shouldn't have done it, but she's a siren, luring me in with her captivating smile and sparkling eyes. She's the spitting image of...her. The one who left an indelible mark on my heart. I've tried to ignore her, to keep my distance, but she's everywhere, haunting me with memories of what could have been.

Our project together is a cruel twist of fate, forcing me to confront the ghosts of my past. Her voice is a whisper from my dreams, a gentle reminder of the love I lost. She talks with the same cadence, the same laugh, the same...everything. It's as if the universe is playing a cruel joke on me.

You're probably wondering who "her" is. Let me tell you, it's a story of love, loss, and longing. A story I thought I'd left behind, but it seems fate has other plans.

~Flashback~
It's been two years since I met Michelle, the only person I believed I would ever love and spend my life with. She was my soulmate, or so I thought.

One sunny day, Michelle approached me with a determined look on her face. "Elijah," she said, her voice laced with persistence.

"Yes, Michelle?" I replied, curious about what was on her mind.

"When are you going to teach me how to drive?" she asked, her eyes sparkling with excitement.

I chuckled, amused by her eagerness. "You're so persistent," I said, shaking my head in admiration.

"Because I've asked you a million times, and you never follow through!" she exclaimed, her hands on her hips. "You have to teach me today, Elijah."

I relented, smiling at her enthusiasm. "Okay, fine. I'll teach you."

She let out a triumphant "Yes!" and hurried off to get the keys. "Hurry up, I don't want to wait all day out here," she called out, her voice tinged with impatience.

As I walked towards the car, she teased, "My grandpa walks faster than you!"

I laughed, playfully telling her to stop exaggerating. "Yeah, yeah, teach me how to drive now," she said, her eyes shining with anticipation.

I began the lesson, emphasizing the importance of safety. "Okay, the first thing you need to do before starting the car is to make sure you have your seatbelt on," I instructed, demonstrating the proper procedure.

"Okay, check!" Michelle said, her eyes fixed on the dashboard.

"Good, now check your mirrors to make sure everything is clear, then put the key into the ignition," I explained, guiding her through the process.

"This is so exciting!" she exclaimed, her enthusiasm infectious.

"Okay, now twist the key to start the car," I instructed.

"Now what?" she asked, her hands hovering over the wheel.

"Press the brake pedal all the way down, then slowly release it," I replied, watching as she slowly released the pedal.

"Oh my god, I'm actually driving!" she squealed, looking at me with a beaming smile.

"Hey, hey, eyes on the road, missy!" I reminded her, chuckling.

As we headed back home, I took over the driving duties. The sky darkened, and the sun dipped below the horizon. Tiny droplets of rain began to fall, gradually intensifying into a heavy downpour. At the stoplight, I decided to turn on some music, but before I could, a sudden impact jolted the car. We skidded into the road, and I quickly glanced to my left to check on Michelle. Her head was bleeding, and a truck was barreling towards us at an alarming speed. I saw her screaming before I could react, and then the truck slammed into the side of the car.

The world around us erupted into chaos as we jolted violently, sending my eyes snapping shut. The cacophony of crunching metal, Michelle's blood-curdling screams, and screeching tires filled my ears. When the chaos finally subsided, I opened my eyes to a scene of utter devastation. Dazed and disoriented, I turned to my left, and my heart plummeted. Michelle slumped over, her body twisted at an unnatural angle. I called out to her, but she remained unresponsive. As I examined her, my horror deepened - her feet were grotesquely crushed, tangled in the mangled metal of the car.

My own body began to betray me, my eyes feeling heavy, my head throbbing with a dull ache. I gazed around, taking in the surreal scene: people swarming everywhere, sirens wailing in the distance. A firefighter rushed to my side, his words a jumbled blur. My gaze fixed on the axe in his hand, and then, everything went black.

•••
As I emerged from the darkness, a throbbing pain in my head threatened to consume me. Memories of the catastrophic event came flooding back, and I jolted upright, only to be met with a searing pain in my hand. I glanced down to see it encased in a cast. Attempting to rise from the bed, a firm hand restrained me. "Sir, you can't leave this room now," a gentle yet authoritative voice said.

"Where is Michelle?" I demanded, my voice laced with desperation.

The woman's expression turned somber. "I'm sorry, sir. She didn't make it. Internal bleeding and a fractured skull...it was too much."

Time seemed to freeze as her words hung in the air. My heart shattered into a million pieces, and my mind went blank. The only sound echoing in my mind was "I'm sorry, she didn't make it." Self-doubt and anguish crept in, taunting me with questions: Was this my fault? Did I cause her death? Why did she have to die?

Tears streamed down my face uncontrollably as my heart ached with a grief so intense it felt like a physical blow. I wished fervently that I could take her place, but all I could whisper was "Why?" The weight of my loss crushed me, and I was consumed by an unrelenting sorrow.

•••
September 2, 2014, was a day that would forever be etched in my memory as the day I said goodbye to the love of my life, Michelle. The weight of my grief was crushing me, and I couldn't help but wonder how I would ever find the strength to move on.

As I entered the church, I was met with a sea of somber faces, but none as heart-wrenching as Michelle's parents. Their eyes, red-rimmed and puffy, mirrored my own. I approached them with a heavy heart, forcing a smile onto my lips. "Hi, Mr. and Mrs. Smith...how are you?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.

Mrs. Smith's response was a mere whisper, "Not too well," as she succumbed to her tears. Mr. Smith's words were laced with empathy, "We know you loved her just as much as we did...please, try to move on." I shook my head, feeling the sting of tears, "I'm not sure when I'll be able to, sir."

As I stepped up to the podium to deliver my eulogy, my throat constricted, and my palms grew slick with sweat. I was on the precipice of breaking down, but then I saw Mrs. Smith's reassuring smile. It gave me the courage to continue.

"Michelle was more than just a beautiful and intelligent young woman...she was the sunshine that brightened every day. Her selflessness and kindness inspired me to be a better person. She was my rock, my confidante, my soulmate. Though she may be in a better place now, I wasn't ready to let her go. If I could turn back time, I would give anything to have her back. Michelle, wherever you are, know that my love for you will never fade."

•••

~End of flashback ~