
When you have an active imagination you tend to find stories in the littlest of things. For this one, all I did was see an elderly woman while I was driving out of the parking lot of the library. Focus on her, focus on keeping a safe distance so I don’t accidentally hit her, and I find myself sitting in the car on the side of the road quickly taking notes much to the chagrin of my 3 year old son.
Everything is a blur. The only thing in focus is the other car; the car I hit. No, the car I smashed into. Stupid. Iโm so stupid. What was I thinking? Why did I feel my phone was more important than paying attention to the road? Why did I have to pick it up at that moment? What did I learn in Drivers Ed back in high school? They told us about this. How many warnings are out there, how many ads? But this has never happened before. I do this all the time and have never had a problem. I thought I was fine. I didnโt think there would be a problem. Why? Why did this happen? Why?
โAre you alright?โ
Am I alright? I want to laugh at my own thoughts. No. Iโm not alright. I hit that persons car. I was careless. I wasnโt thinking.
โAre you hurt anywhere?โ
Hurt. It hurts. My hands. My hands hurt. Why do my hands hurt so much? I look down at where the pain is coming from. My hands are still on the steering wheel, my knuckles are white. Have I been gripping the steering wheel this hard the whole time? Iโm holding on for dear life. Why? Itโs not my life Iโm worried about. Whatโs happening in the other car? Where is the driver? How are they? Did I hurt them?
โI think she may need some help. She doesnโt seem to be coherent.โ
Oh no. I did hurt them. What am I going to do? I didnโt mean to. I didnโt – oh, no. Did I kill them? I
My arm is suddenly warm. It feelsโฆnice. And I smellโฆflowers? Roses. I breathe in the scent. What a beautiful scent. Am I in a garden? My mind drifts to fresh blooms of red, white, and pink. There are flowers everywhere. Someone has been taking loving care of this garden. I feel like Iโm in a storybook.
I reach for a bloom and caress its petals. So soft, so tender. Some of the petals are creased, but their beauty is not lost. I canโt help but smile. I canโt remember a time Iโve been soโฆsoโฆhappy? Content. Relaxed. Itโs refreshing. I wish I could stay here forever.
โOw!โ A thorn. I should have known. No matter how beautiful a rose may be, thereโs always a thorn to be found, and of course I would find it.
โIs she alright? Sheโs hurting.โ
Is there someone else in the garden? โWhoโs there?โ I call out and wait to see if they respond.
โMaโam, weโre trying to help you. Do you know where you are?โ
I hear a manโs voice; is it the gardener? And what does he mean do I know where I am? Of course I do. โIโm over by the roses. Where are you? Show yourself.โ
โMaโam weโre right here. You were in an accident. Do you remember?โ
An accident? What is he talking about? โI donโt know what you mean. Iโm standing right here.โ
โWill she be alright?โ A womanโs voice.
Why are there so many people infiltrating the garden? I just wanted some peace and quiet. I just wanted time to myself. But now that time is gone. I start to tense up again.
โSheโll be fine,โ I hear a man say. The same one as before? He seems to be reassuring the woman. But why? What is going on? Is someone hurt?
Hurt. Iโm hurt. The other driver! Quickly Iโm transported back. Back to reality, back to the crash. But Iโm no longer sitting at the wheel. Iโm lying down. How did that happen? I try to sit up, but I canโt. People are speaking, but I canโt hear what theyโre saying. My eyes try to focus, but all I see are blobs of color moving back and forth around me. Focus, Nicole, focus. But I canโt. My ears start to ring, and everything goes black.
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I love the story, things feel this way sometimes. You nailed it!
Thanks, Melissa ๐
Sometimes we can get so caught up we just lose a grip on reality for a second and need to be pulled back to earth.
Very true ๐