In this world, there are questions. And you always get an answer, whether you know it or not, because there is one, but not always the one you're looking for. It's really quite confusing how the world works. You ask for one thing, but end up with another. It seems right when you've fought to the top, someone throws a stone and you fall back to rock bottom. It's not fair, but it's even.
I guess that's why I got put here. I take that back, I'm not really here. 'Here' is more of a 'there' or 'everywhere'. It's just somewhere that isn't here. I sit back onto gravity and begin to re-play what happened in my mind, maybe I can figure out where this is, since I've been here for so long. My breath comes out long and slow as my mind spreads open, and projects my memory onto the white in front of me.
Thick fog clouded the road that led us back home. I felt like this trip would never end and I just wanted to get home. Sam sat next to me, unspeaking and obviously still upset about what happened on the beach earlier. We had been best friends since kindergarten, but all of a sudden he tried to make a move on me. I may have believed him if he hadn't of been drunk and trying to show off for his friends. I of course turned him down and yelled at him for getting drunk, because he's only 17. Now we were driving home in an awkward silence, both of us just wishing it never happened.
"Chloe," he started.
"Shut up." I cut him off fiercely.
He kept going, "Chloe, I'm so sorry. I was just trying to have fun. I was stupid."
"I'll agree with the stupid part."
"'I'm a guy. We do stupid things. It was just once. You know I don't feel like that about you."
I just stare at the road ahead, because it's getting harder and harder to stay mad at him. I just keep seeing him stumbling toward me bottle in hand, his hand caressing my face as he tried to get on top of me while I shoved him away. I take a deep breath and I know that I could never stay mad at him. He had always been there to cheer me up, to wipe my tears, to protect me from every scary monster I dreamed up. He was the one that stopped me from killing myself. He let me stay with him when my parents were too drunk to recognize me. He was the only person I loved, and the only one that cared about me.
He sees the clouded look in my eyes and starts to reach over to touch me. I jerk away.
"Chloe, look out!" He cuts me off and points toward the road.
It all happened so fast I could barely make it out. A shadow with glowing green eyes stood hunched over in the middle of the road. I slammed on the brakes and turned the steering wheel, and when we should've hit it, it simply dissolved into the air. The car fishtailed, then skidded and flipped onto its side. I screamed as the windshield shattered and my head slammed into the dashboard. Everything was fuzzy and unclear, lights slid together and a chorus of voices shouted. I could feel arms holding me, the person yelled my name. Then slowly I slipped into blackness.
Now I'm back to this place of white. My little movie is over and I'm alone in the screeching silence once again. How long have I been here exactly? Maybe a month? I don't know, but I want out. I want to see something other than my memories, and hear something other than silence. I start tapping my foot and humming, because I'm extremely bored. It's weird that that's my main concern other than getting out. There's just nothing else to think about, I'm not hungry or thirsty, I don't get tired. What is this? Is it heaven? Hell?
All at once my body is paralyzed, and I'm suddenly freezing. The light is dimmed by a shadow that is gripping my shoulders and hovering all around. A harsh whisper rushes into my ears, and is followed by a rough shove forwards. When I fall, I land in my own body, lying on a hospital bed. I gasp for air and sit up bolt right. My hand clutches my heart and I think about what just happened. After being there for such a long time, why did I finally get out?
I barely notice that Sam has rushed over and put his arm around me, screaming for a nurse and that I woke up. I shove his arm off and cover my ears, because the sudden loud noise pierces my head.
"Stop screaming, you making my ears bleed," I complain.
He just looks at me and smiles, running a hand through his dirty blonde hair. He doesn't care how much I complain, he's just so over joyed at seeing me awake. I look him over and realize I'm not the only one in bad shape. His normally clear, tan skin is covered with scabs and white bandages. His left wrist is in a cast, and a white bandage was pressed on his fore head. His long hair was matted and dirty. The normal excitement that lived in his dark brown eyes was gone.
I reach out toward him, "God. Sammy, I'm sorry. Does anything hurt?"
I couldn't help feeling guilty, because I was the one driving. I was the one not watching the road. The one who hit, or went through that thing. I had put him pain.
He shakes his head, "Not right now. They've got me on some pain killers. Don't worry about me, you haven't opened your eyes in two days. The nurses thought you were a gonner."
Two days? That's it? It felt like I was in that place for weeks! That just couldn't be right. My thoughts become more and more tangled as I try and sort out everything. What did that whisper say, right before I got out? Where was I? What was in the middle of the road?
After being looked over by a nurse, I was left to rest. I'd found out everything that was wrong with me: a severe concussion, three broken ribs and two bruised, and a crack on my spine. I have plenty of other cuts and bruises, but I'll live. The pain in my ribs is the worst when I breathe, and I'm constantly being forced to take pain pills that make me extremely tired.
The next two days fuzz in and out, but slowly get clearer as I was eased off of the medication. I was allowed one visitor at a time, which was okay because pretty much the only person that came to see me was Sam. Every now and then some friends from school would drop by, and a couple police officers came and got the story from me. As expected, my parents didn't come see me. I'm not sure what I'm going to say when I get home, I know they will be mad about the hospital bill. I'll probably get beat for it, and hopefully they'll kick me out. Stupid thoughts keep running through my head, like maybe they've changed. Yeah right…