If you speak. They hear you.
If you move. They follow you.
If you breathe. They get you.
Left, right. Left, right. Left, right.
I keep moving forward, even though I know...I know they are all around me and watching my every movement. I know that there is no way out.
There is no way out.
Or is there?
I am moving towards the bridge. Everyone says to go to the bridge. The bridge is the passage to the other side, the other side of here and now. The other side without them.
I have been here for days, maybe months?
I have lost track of all time. I don’t even know who I am anymore. My only goal is to get to the bridge.
I’m stealthily creeping through the streets, barren trees lining the sides. I have on a pair of black jeans, a maroon top, and white converse with cotton taped to the bottoms. I can tell that it is cold outside, but I feel nothing, not even a breeze. There is a large building to my left and they are to my right, which means I need to hide until they move. I start to turn when I feel a searing pain right underneath my collarbone. It feels like my soul is getting stripped from my chest. I immediately stumble backwards, falling to the ground as quietly as possible in absolute agony. The pain is so deep it is vibrating through my body. I look up.
A dark figure is towering over me cloaked in black. The figure is holding what appears to be a syringe, presumably the weapon that just stabbed me. I begin to motion to my lips, but the figure holds a finger to their mouth… the only thing I can see.
The figure places a hand over its chest and then forward as if it’s praying. It bows towards me and I acknowledge it’s apology. We stare at each other blankly for a few seconds before I motion to the bridge. The figure nods its head because it already knows; it already knows about the bridge to the other side. We all know about the bridge to the other side and that was just further confirmation for me.
I get up from the ground and I’m no longer in pain. And with that, the figure and I begin our journey to the bridge.
As we get closer, I start to have flashbacks of my last day.
It’s September 4th, 2017.
I woke up to the birds chirping on an early Saturday morning. I had plans to meet my friend Sarah for lunch at Ziti’s in Davis Square. I was so excited!
I sat on my phone for a few minutes, before heading to the kitchen. I brewed a pot of coffee and put some toast in the toaster. I remember thinking to myself how good of a day it was going to be. I then cut an avocado and assembled my avocado toast, before going outside and sitting at the bench my dad built. Mom came out, asked what my plans were and then retreated back in the house after I blatantly ignored her. I wish I had given her more of my time.
I went upstairs and got ready. I picked my favorite black jeans to wear and a maroon flowy top! I was ready for the day. I ran back downstairs, grabbed my keys, my white converse, and yelled bye as I rushed out the door. All I said was bye… no “I love you”. I didn’t know it was going to be my last time. I wish I did.
Then, I was in the car. Everything was normal. Everything was fine.
I turned up Taylor’s new release and I was on my way to pick up Sarah.
I was in the left lane going 70 mph on I-95 when it happened so suddenly. The car came out of nowhere barreling towards me from over the median. The next thing I knew there was a crash. Then, I was airborne and I was spinning.
No, I was flipping.
Then came another crash. And another. And another.
I saw glass and I saw lights. I saw my life flash before my eyes and I saw everything I wanted to become. I saw myself as a doctor and getting married. I saw my three children and the world below me as I was skydiving. I saw everything until I saw nothing.
Until I felt nothing.
Until everything was black.
Until I was nothing and there was nobody. Until I got to the other side.
To be cont'd.