Post by pfeenix on Jan 22, 2010 8:54:58 GMT -5
well, happy reading!
I hadn't expected the poor road conditions, after all the radio assured me the roads were fine. I hadn't expected the squeal of tires, I hadn't seen anyone else on the road. Nor had I expected the sudden jarring impact, or the echoing screams. I hadn't planned for it to be like this. No, this wasn't how I expected the night to go.
But, unfortunately, this is my life, and since when does anything ever go according to plan?
The screaming continued. A loud, incessant, irritating sound. I couldn't think. The screaming was making the already throbbing pain in my head worse. Putting my hand to my head in a futile attempt to block it out, I felt warm liquid begin to seep through my glove.
Now I started to panic. My eyes fought to focus, fought to take in the scene around me. My mind tried understand what had happened.
I'd been driving up Mount McKinsley, going to my family's annual New Year's bash. It was supposed to be clear tonight, I had checked the forecast multiple times. Had they told me it was going to snow, then rain, then snow some more, I would have made other plans. My car hadn't been doing so well in inclement weather these days, my family would have understood.
But the night was supposed to be clear. Stupid weathermen.
When the first snow began to fall, I quickly switched from my iPod to the local AM station, but even as the snow turned to sleet, turned to rain, and back again, they countinued to assure me that the roads were fine. Still, I drove as cautiously as I could. But, apparently not careful enough.
Perhaps I'd let myself get reckless. Perhaps the abandoned strecth before me had fooled me into a sense of semi-security, a security that allowed me to put just a little bit more pressure on the pedal, in hopes of being able to reach my destination that much sooner.
Then again, perhaps it's not my fault at all. But that doesn't really matter. Regardless of how it happened, the end result is still the same: me, in a car slammed againsat a tree, after having been sideswiped by another car that was not supposed to be on my abandoned stretch of road. Me, with my bleeding head, listening to that terrible, unbroken, sceaching scream.
No. Not scream. It may have been a scream in the beginning, but now that I thought about it, it wasn't a scream anymore. Ringing. I could hear nothing else but rining.
Looking around again, my eyes registering more than their previous sweep, I saw a couple, middleaged, by the looks of it, standing by a sedan that looked as bad as I felt. The man -- balding on top, with a ring of what looked to be dirty blonde tracing from the area of his sideburns, all the way around back, and glasses -- had his arms around the woman -- curly, chestnut hair, cut just above her sholders -- as if he were supporting her.
At first glance, both of them looked shaken, a little scratched, as if sharp shards of glass had flung themselves at their fragile skin, but otherwise unharmed. This assesment eased my troubled mind considerably, as I realized noone involved had been seriously harmed.
And then the man, noticing my movement, drew closer and began to talk; or, at least that's what it looked like. His lips were moving, but all I could hear was the ringin that had become nothing more than backgroung noise. With a confused look, I rolled down my manual window with every intention of asking the man to reapeat himself, but...well, I'd thought I'd asked him, but no sound escaped my lips.
The man started mouthing words I could not hear, again. With him being as close as he was now, I should have heard him loud and clear, but no sound registered. Panic spread though me again like wildfire, consuming all rational thought.
Why can't I hear him?! What is wrong with me?! What is wrong with my ears?!
Had I had my way, I'd have been sobbing my concerns as loud as I could. Perhaps I was, I had no way of knowing, but the man's face grew concerned as my panic grew more extreme: my breathing became laboured, as every breath I drew became more shallow; my sight started fading in and out, as a fog descended over my vision; and, suddenly, darkness claimed me as it's own.
I hadn't expected the poor road conditions, after all the radio assured me the roads were fine. I hadn't expected the squeal of tires, I hadn't seen anyone else on the road. Nor had I expected the sudden jarring impact, or the echoing screams. I hadn't planned for it to be like this. No, this wasn't how I expected the night to go.
But, unfortunately, this is my life, and since when does anything ever go according to plan?
The screaming continued. A loud, incessant, irritating sound. I couldn't think. The screaming was making the already throbbing pain in my head worse. Putting my hand to my head in a futile attempt to block it out, I felt warm liquid begin to seep through my glove.
Now I started to panic. My eyes fought to focus, fought to take in the scene around me. My mind tried understand what had happened.
I'd been driving up Mount McKinsley, going to my family's annual New Year's bash. It was supposed to be clear tonight, I had checked the forecast multiple times. Had they told me it was going to snow, then rain, then snow some more, I would have made other plans. My car hadn't been doing so well in inclement weather these days, my family would have understood.
But the night was supposed to be clear. Stupid weathermen.
When the first snow began to fall, I quickly switched from my iPod to the local AM station, but even as the snow turned to sleet, turned to rain, and back again, they countinued to assure me that the roads were fine. Still, I drove as cautiously as I could. But, apparently not careful enough.
Perhaps I'd let myself get reckless. Perhaps the abandoned strecth before me had fooled me into a sense of semi-security, a security that allowed me to put just a little bit more pressure on the pedal, in hopes of being able to reach my destination that much sooner.
Then again, perhaps it's not my fault at all. But that doesn't really matter. Regardless of how it happened, the end result is still the same: me, in a car slammed againsat a tree, after having been sideswiped by another car that was not supposed to be on my abandoned stretch of road. Me, with my bleeding head, listening to that terrible, unbroken, sceaching scream.
No. Not scream. It may have been a scream in the beginning, but now that I thought about it, it wasn't a scream anymore. Ringing. I could hear nothing else but rining.
Looking around again, my eyes registering more than their previous sweep, I saw a couple, middleaged, by the looks of it, standing by a sedan that looked as bad as I felt. The man -- balding on top, with a ring of what looked to be dirty blonde tracing from the area of his sideburns, all the way around back, and glasses -- had his arms around the woman -- curly, chestnut hair, cut just above her sholders -- as if he were supporting her.
At first glance, both of them looked shaken, a little scratched, as if sharp shards of glass had flung themselves at their fragile skin, but otherwise unharmed. This assesment eased my troubled mind considerably, as I realized noone involved had been seriously harmed.
And then the man, noticing my movement, drew closer and began to talk; or, at least that's what it looked like. His lips were moving, but all I could hear was the ringin that had become nothing more than backgroung noise. With a confused look, I rolled down my manual window with every intention of asking the man to reapeat himself, but...well, I'd thought I'd asked him, but no sound escaped my lips.
The man started mouthing words I could not hear, again. With him being as close as he was now, I should have heard him loud and clear, but no sound registered. Panic spread though me again like wildfire, consuming all rational thought.
Why can't I hear him?! What is wrong with me?! What is wrong with my ears?!
Had I had my way, I'd have been sobbing my concerns as loud as I could. Perhaps I was, I had no way of knowing, but the man's face grew concerned as my panic grew more extreme: my breathing became laboured, as every breath I drew became more shallow; my sight started fading in and out, as a fog descended over my vision; and, suddenly, darkness claimed me as it's own.