It’s late night when I finally start on my way home; I’d stayed after school today for a sport’s practice. Now, it was dark and I knew my parents would soon start to wonder where I am. I click my bright lights on as I drive away from the school. I can feel my eyelids start to droop the longer I drive. I hadn’t slept well the night before and after practice, I’d been completely exhausted. Now, as I see the bridge come into view a couple yards ahead of me, my eyelids slowly close and my vision goes down to black.
The next thing I notice is a loud screeching noise. I’m jerked forward in my seat, the seatbelt drawing tight across my chest and knocking the breath out of me. Then, it’s almost as if time slows around me and I have a moment to take in the whole situation. I’d fallen asleep at the wheel and now I’d hit the barrier around the bridge. The barrier was crumpling under my car, unable to hold back its weight. The sound is defining, a high pitched screeching of metal tearing apart. I take all this in and then everything snaps back into motion like a rubber band.
My car plummets through the railing, taking me with it as it falls toward the river below. I’m pushed back in my seat by the speed of the car and when it finally hits the water it’s almost like hitting the barrier all over again. It throws me forward in my seat and then it starts to sink. Water quickly begins to rise up along the windows. I’m too shocked to try the door until the car has already sunken too far under. The pressure of the water seals the doors shut; no matter how hard I try to pry them open I can’t. Once I realize this, I quickly start looking around the car for some other way to get out. However, when I do this, I start to notice my feet getting wet. My car had held out this long but it wasn’t air tight, water was pushing its way into the car and once it started it would fill up quickly. Frantically, I look for some other way out, all the time the water filling my car rising. My feet. My knees. My stomach. My chest. Once it covers my chest, I start banging at the doors again, at the windows, anything, but they still won’t open. Then, I start screaming for help, but of course no one comes. In a few moments, the water covers my head. I choke and gag, my body spasms, looking for the air it so desperately needs and then everything goes completely still. Slowly, the world becomes very dark and cold.
A cool breeze whips my hair across my face as I stare up into the clear blue sky. I see the flutter of wings as birds flit around the trees singing their dainty songs. The rustle of the water at my feet nearly lulls me into a trance as I lie on the grass by the river. It’s quiet here, peaceful. The only noises are the natural ones of the forest, from the shifting of the trees to the quaint chirping of the birds. I can hardly see a reason to leave this place, but at the same time it’s not somewhere I know. This place is foreign and somewhere I’ve never seen before. But somehow it just feels… right. It’s as if I’ve known it was here all my life and just hadn’t had the chance to find it till now.
I lie there for a moment longer, watching as a fluffy cloud floats across the sky, then I sit up. The river glistens at my feet, sending up a fine spray of mist that creates miniature rainbows. It looks almost as if I could take a swim in it, but I know that’s not true. The river is wide and the water rushes by at a fast, relentless pace. If I were to try in swim in this river it would sweep me away in a second. It’d been drilled into my head since I was young that I was never to go into this river. But who was it that told me this again? I can’t seem to remember but it was someone important I’m sure. This river was a death trap, I’d always been told. Once you go in, you never come back out. Yet, it just seems so inviting. I take a tentative step toward it but then a thought resonates through my mind. People have died in this river. Immediately, I take a step back. I had no clue where the thought had come from but I could just feel that it was true. People’s lives had been lost here and I should under no circumstances go into this water. With that, it almost seems as if I’m awakened from some sort of trance. The river no longer looks bright and inviting but swirling and dark, holding things I don’t even wish to imaging under its surface. I back away and turn to the forest at my back. I don’t even hesitate as I begin back through them.
