Schizo

Chapter 1: The Flashback

The long road to work with a cigarette in my hand. The pavement I've been driving on for the past ten minutes starts to get broken and cracked. I drive past trees and different fields, nothing new to me since I live in a country wasteland. Tons of cows and nothing but corn for miles to see, that is if you can see past the rolling hills we have. Grassy plains cover different parts of each side of the road. As I look out towards the horizon, I can see the river that divides South Dakota and Nebraska. Large cliffs of sedimentary rock guide the river down a very prestigious path. You can see the layers of sand, silt, and clay that they consist of. 

 I open the center arm rest in my car and pull out an orange medicine container with a green lid and a Swisher Sweet Cigarillo. Mango to be exact. Inside the medicine container held a small amount of marijuana. This wasn't the first time I rolled a blunt while driving, but I was still paranoid.

Why would I roll a blunt while operating a vehicle you ask? Because even though I'm paranoid I could wreck my car, I still didn't care if I died. Others might, but I don't. Why wouldn't I stop the car? I don't know, why wouldn't you keep going? If that made smoke come out of your ears just thinking if that made sense or not, then you should probably stop reading because none of this will make sense.

I don't know what's next for me when I die, but I do know that I take things in strides. Just as they come. What's the point of living everyday like it's your last when you don't care?

As I'm driving down the road with my knee, I slice open the cigarillo to empty out the already rolled tobacco. My pants make the steering wheel slip from my control and I dip into the ditch on my right side enough to scare the living hell out of someone who almost died rolling their car. What can I say, shits scary right?

I can feel my bones shutter as my brain goes back to 8 months ago. I'm driving my new (to me) SUV down the road that brought me from my house to my moms house. The closer I got to my house, that faster I went. I was driving with a very good friend of mine, for the sake of not using her name since I didn't ask if it was okay we'll call her.... B. Yes, just B. I don't need to be creative all the time. And for those of you who think I'm being conceited and I'm not putting enough effort into this, with it also being a friend's name, just know that 1. "B" is a very good friend of mine 2. "B" is also the first letter of such adjectives like "bomb" and "badass". Yes, I went there 3. I don't give a damn about what people think of me. If you're willing to accept me for who I am then we are fine and dandy, but if you cross me, lie to me, act shady towards me, or just don't associate with me then I guess fuck you. I think there was a fourth reason I had behind calling her "B" but I hate to inform you that I forgot while I was looking up if "bomb" was an adjective or not. Good news, it is. Anyways, driving down a road with B, yadda yadda yadda. We also had two other friends driving in a separate car. We'll call the first one I met, which was I don't even remember when.. grade school sometime, we'll call her M. Should I repeat myself on why? No? Good, I wasn't going to anyways and if I was you can bet your ass I was just going to copy and paste the exact same thing I already said, even though "bomb" and "badass" don't start with M (use your imagination). Oh, that reminds me 4. is "get used to the conceited part of me, because like I said 'I don't give a damn.'" My other friend driving with M was just a mutual friend of M's. Actually, I met her at a bible camp, but that's not important and irrelevant. I don't even know why I said that, but even though 'backspace' exists, I have a little secret for you... I don't give a damn. Shocker, right? Moving on, B and I were racing M and the mutual friend. The closer we got, the faster I went. Of course, being the dumbass I am, I decided I didn't need to slow down when the pavement met the gravel and we lost control. M and our mutual friend were well past B and I, so luckily they didn't get involved in the accident. However, B and I ended up rolling the car. Actually, I rolled the car since I was driving. Might as well not drag B into being a dumbass as well. I'm pretty sure she was actually telling me to slow down, but I can't remember anything besides sliding into a corn field on the roof of my 6 month old SUV. 

Wow, that was a long paragraph. No, I don't care to break it up. This is my story, not yours. I felt it was more fitting to have that all together since I forgot to space it out anyways. 

I do remember what happened after the car stopped moving though. I remember looking over and probably screaming B's name way too loud in her ear. Oh well, just checking to see if she was alive. Thankfully, we were both okay. I mean, I had a nice gash on my elbow and she had a small cut on her knee that she described as "not even as big as the cuts I make when I shave my legs" or something like that. That was a good laugh, even after I just totaled my car and I had no money in my pockets, or the bank, to replace it. I did get 7 stitches in my elbow and I'm left with a nice reminder that I'm an idiot so I guess that's just wonderful (I should of mentioned there will be sarcasm too). But I like to tell the ladies that I got attacked by a shark. Do they believe it? Never. How many times have I used that? Once, pretty sure I said it to my mom. I don't remember actually getting cut because the rush of adrenaline I had thinking I was going to die while we were skidding to a stop made me completely lose all sensations and feelings I had in my body. Living with ADHD makes you only focus on one thing at a time and I hate to say it, but at that time I was just focusing on not smashing my head against the ceiling of my car or flying out of front windshield or anything that could seriously injure me for that matter. 

I do remember not realizing I was bleeding until I smacked my hand against the tailgate of my car and saw the bloody hand print I left on the blue paint. Not to worry, I had not one, but two firstaid kits in my car. I don't know, don't ask, it's not important. I rolled up the long sleeve I was wearing and revealed the open wound on my elbow. I won't lie, it wasn't pretty. I don't know if this is everyone or just me, but I tend to not care about my own blood or organs. Not that I've seen my organs, I'll let you know if that happens, but even seeing that gash on my elbow didn't really faze me. I mean, not ideal to look at, but if it was on someone else's arm, I probably would of puked. The skin was lacerated in a 'U' or maybe a 'V' shape. If I held my arm up (elbow down and hand up), the 'V' would be upside down. The inside of the 'V' was pushed up against the skin closest to my joint (kinda looked like an open mouth?) and if you wiped the blood from the wound, you could see the tiny rocks and glass pushed into the dermis layer of my skin. Blood was running down my arm and it soaked the inside of my shirt. There's still a nice tear in that shirt too. I don't think I've worn it since. 

Seven stitches and maybe two hours later, I found myself in my room at my moms house with an ice pack on my wrapped up arm. This is around the time it started actually hurting like a son of a bitch. My hand to God, don't ever get three stitches underneath of your skin and four more stitches on top just to seal a cut. If you have to, obviously do it. It's better if it heals right then all fucked up. But damn it, after the anesthesia wears off you'd think it would be less painful to just saw your entire arm off. Which is funny now that I go back and read that because the same elbow with the scar on it makes me feels like doing that right now. Maybe it's growing pains. Maybe it's my imagination. It's also almost midnight and I've been up since 5 AM so maybe that's part of the case too. But my entire joint feels like it's on fire and it needs to just knock that shit off right now.

I stayed a few nights at my moms, but I missed the fuck out of my cat. Obi Wan Kenobi is and always will be my best friend. Plus, he's so fluffy and cute and he cuddles with me. Literally, the first moment I walked into my house and opened the door to his room (yeah, he had his own room. Deal with it.), he automatically greeted me and sat with me in the chair. I love that lil' fucker. 

Flash back to the present and I'm just getting back onto the road after dipping into the ditch, but I see something cross the road from the corner of my eye and I immediately hit the brakes. I wish I could tell you it was a deer, but deer don't walk on two legs and run at bionic speeds. I didn't have enough time to slow down and I hit the person (?) head on, but as soon as the hood of my car meets the hip of the two legged whateverthefuckitis, the image I saw disappears with a shimmer.