It's incredibly difficult to drive with blurry vision. How do people deal with this? Should I pull over?
I decided this was the best thing to do. Even though, at the moment, I wouldn't mind going headlites first into a brick wall at top speed, I would care if I injured another driver. Besides, I could barely breathe. It was raining cats and dogs, and of coarse, I was lost.
This wouln't be the first time I got lost in a rainstorm I thought to myseelf, but I pushed that thought aside. I couldn't afford to think of that Laybor Day Weekend, the weekend that passed exactly a year ago. A shiver ran down my back as I struggled to regain focus. I needed to find a safe spot to pull over.
Through all the haze, I watched as a flash of colour ran through the wall of rain, crossing my path. I tried to stop, but the rain caused my car to skid forward, full speed ahead. That was when I felt my truck groan and shudder as I hit whatever stupid animal had decided to jump infront of my car. I stamped on the brakes for the second time and skidded perfectly on to the small grass patch just off the right side of the road. Normally, I would be very content, and might even have smiled to myself, because of my amazing driving skills, but not tonight. I could barely manage a thought of congratulations with all the thoughts buzzing around in my head right now.
My car squeeled as it slowed to an awkward stop. It took me a minute to catch my breath. I should probably go and see if my truck was okay, but I already knew the answer to that. This car was going to die. Even though it is barely a year old, this Chevy has been through too much. The placement of my daily destinations didnt help my poor truck at all. My house's driveway consists of a mudslide caused by the rain's effect on the dirt road. The mud has gotten so bad, that my truck has been left, bumper high, stuck in the mud waiting for a tow truck to pull it out and onto dry land. Poor thing most likely wont live untill it's two.
I took the key out of the ignition and just sat there for what seemed like eternity. I thought about everything that has happened this past year. Everything that has changed because of that weekend. A lot, I thought. A Lot has changed.
Finally, I broke down and balled my eyes out untill both Kleenex boxes I kept in the truck were stuffed with my used tissues. This pain was way too much to bear. The therapy sessions certainly weren't helping either. They numbed the pain during the time of the session, but about and hour or two afterwards, the pain crept back up on me when I would least expect it, just like it was doing now. I cringed, waiting for the panging in my stomache to end, but it was just getting worse. The invisible fist inside me was punching and clawing at my organs, ripping them apart like a careless child ripping apart the wrapping on a present. I knew from expierence that whenever I thought of that day, I gained a new level of the searing pain that always seemed to come out of nowhere, but this was pure torture. I cried out and doubled over, clenching my stomache as tears soaked my red raincoat. I layed down on my side, across the entire front cab seet, and clenched my teeth shut. I would wait it out. I forced myself to stop crying and I shut my eyes, concentrating on anything else but here and now. The next thing I knew, I was drifting off into sleep.
I was almost ninety-nine percent sure I was dreaming. I knew this because I was watching myself , but not through a mirror, through someone elses eyes. I was a bystander, watching as I put on my black rainboots and my red raincoat as i quickly scrambled out the door. I was choking down the last of the burnt toast Cal, my new stepdad, had attempted to make us for breakfast. I never liked Cal. I had had dreams about him. Bad ones. They were all about Cal and Lisa, my younger sister. Some were about Cal raping, beating or even breaking bones of Lisa's, my mother's and mine, and others were much, much worse. This particular dream I was having now was not about Cal, but I have had this dream before. Many times, actually, and that one percent that that held me back from knowing this was a dream was creeping up on me once again. This was not a dream. This was a nightmare. I watched as I saw myself skip down the driveway and hop into the cab of my brand new, sparkling blue Chevy. This was a replay of the day I watched my sister die.
