Is this a dream? Where am I? Am I alone? Is anyone around me? No. No this is not a dream. No, I don't know where I'm at. Yes, I am alone. No, no one is around me. What's the last thing I can remember? My mind is clouded with too many thoughts. I remember it was the first day back after Thanksgiving break. I remember arguing with mom before I left the house this morning. She wanted me to ride the bus, but because I had basketball practice, I needed the car.
Mom gives in, and I get the car. I knew the roads were rough, so I was going to be extra careful, so I thought. The last words mom said to me were, "Wear your seat belt, don't mess with the radio, and I love you." I shook my head in agreement and went on my way. I was doing well, until I got to the bottom side of the big hill on Simla Hwy. I hit a rough patch of dirt, and lost control. I corrected myself, and kept going. I lost control, but this time I didn't regain it,
I started to panic. My foot searched for the brake, but I hit the gas instead. I was now going 65 instead of 40. I can remember the car turning counterclockwise. I was heading North, now I was facing South. The Subaru rolled to the left. Driver's side smashing into the ground first. The first thing I see out my window is the culvert. The continues rolling. I can recall the sound of glass breaking everywhere around me. The front window on the driver's side and passenger side collapse inside the car. Both back windows shatter, and are gone.
Five rolls later. The car lands right-side up on the wheels. I'm not in the car, and I don't know where I am. I don't know long I have been there. Although it wasn't that long, every minute I went without help, felt like a lifetime. People start showing up. They're running around like something is wrong. I rattle off some numbers to a man, I don't know what they meant, my own voice sounded unintelligible to my own ears. I can still remember the feeling in my legs. As I start to talk more and more, the feeling starts to fade away.
They are numb. Not a single trace of feeling anywhere. My arm is killing me. It feels as if it has been broke. It has. Nothing else hurts at all. The air is cool, not too cold, or too hot, just cool. The wind picks up out of nowhere, and the chopper lands in the field. More people are here. My neck has been put into a brace, and my body is being strapped down to a board. I keep fighting them, but they keep restraining me. The next thing I know, I'm asleep, and the memories are gone.
Three days later, I wake up to the sound of machines beeping. My eyes flutter open, and I am not alone. My mom and my grandpa are standing over the top of me. My arm is throbbing inside of a make-shift cast, and I feel dead tired. They both grasp me in a hug, and hold on tight. My mom starts to cry and doesn't let go. The nurse comes in to check on me. Grandpa and mom start to talk to me like I have been gone for twenty years. I ask where I am, why I'm here, and what happened to me.
Mom glances at Papa and then to me. "Kass, you have been in a very bad car accident." I start to hyperventilate, and struggle to get out of bed. The nurses come in and restrain me from getting up. "Kass you have had major surgeries, and you cannot move." I soon realize that everything from my lover back to the tips of my toes are numb. They feel dead. I can't sit up in bed because my back hurts to bad to move. Every time I take a breath in, it feels as if something is repeatedly stabbing me in the lungs. They're bruised.
"Sweetheart," the nurse chimes, "Don't try to move, your only job is to get better now." My head falls back into the pillow, and the tears cascade down my cheeks. I feel like my world had just come to an end. A few days pass a long, and I am still in ICU. I am still in critical condition, and I all I know is that I want to go home. As mom leaves the room, family members come in. It's hard to recognize them at first. My mind clicks, and I know who they are and why they are here.