Mpop Fever

16: Memories

I was calm, sarrounded by only light. Even though I didn't know where I was, I knew that I was safe. I knew that I could not be harmed. I was seeing my mother, for the very last time. She held my hands and told me that everything would be fine. She told me that even though I would not be seeing her for a while, she would always be there for me.

I stretched out my arm because I wanted to go with her. She held my hand and softly spoke, "Daddy's waiting," and I was filled with an overwhelming sadness. She told me to take care of Duncan, even though in the end he would be the one tending to my every need. She told me that she loved me and my father loved me too.

I watched her walk away into the light, knowing that she wouldn't be coming back.

I was in a car with my parents going to fetch Duncan at the airport. I was on the phone with my fiancé and we were both chatting happily as he told me about his work.

A car with broken brakes comes out of nowhere and in a panic my father swerved the car and it went out of control. I saw it all happen as if in slow motion. My mother screamed. My father cussed multiple times. I screamed. The other car hit us anyways. My phone flew and even though I are was no longer sure where it was, I could hear my fiancé shouting out my name.

I closed my eyes and then clutched my stomach as tears fall out of my eyes because I knew that I wouldn't make it. I was aware that clutching my stomach would not protect the baby. It was too small and fragile. I flew, almost like I had been thrown from the back seat and through the front window.

I lost consciousness.

When I opened my eyes again I could see my parents, still in the car, which at the moment was upside down. The front window was broken and I could see them clearly. My father's mouth was barely open, with blood droplets falling onto the car roof. My mother, from that angle, seemed to be missing her head. I thought that at the moment too.

My hand instinctively went to my belly. It was wet and sore. As I lifted my hand I saw it. Blood. My mind did not register it as I hoped that I could also go like my parents. My stomach hurt and there seemed to be glass shards sticking out on different parts of my body. I could feel them. They hurt.

As I looked up I could see a large tree. At least I was not in the scorching sun. I waited, minutes although it felt like hours, for the light so that the pain could stop. It didn't and the light never came. Instead the paramedics did.

I could hear them from a distance and for a while I believed that my baby had a chance. I believed that my parents also had a chance.

I wheezed, trying to tell the paramedic on top of me about the baby, but I couldn't speak. Only blood came out and she tried to calm me down. She told me that I was fine and that they'll do everything they could to save the baby.

I was happy. Everyone would survive. The paramedics were finally there.  My family would be fine. With that I let myself drift into a somewhat peaceful sleep. Everything was going to be okay. I would wake up, painless and with my family again.

But then I woke up. My parents were not there. My baby was not there. My fiancé was not there. Why? Because my parents and my baby were dead and I couldn't even remember having a fiancé.  So naturally I forget the baby too. The only person I had left was my brother and that thought alone made me plunge into depression.

I lost everything, but I managed to get back up. I did see my mother, before I woke up to find Duncan near the hospital bed. He cried. He cried a lot. And I shut him out. I was depressed. I remembered most of the accident and I would be haunted by its memories every time I closed my eyes. I refused to see a therapist. I refused to even see him at a point. I hurt him. A lot.