how does it feel to almost die (part one)

Apocalypse by Cigarettes after Sex was playing on the stereo. As you come to, it is still echoing through the crushed subwoofers, and the cracked touchscreen still displays a vestige of the playlist you were shuffling because you don't have Spotify Premium. It's one of those things that’s so ridiculously ironic and perfectly timed that it almost seems like a horrific nightmare.

And then, of course, reality sets in, and you blink once, twice, thrice, and then you realize this isn’t a dream and you’re actually being slowly asphyxiated by the steering wheel that’s currently lodged between your ribs and the back of your seat, and you can’t feel your upper back or your arms anymore, but they still move, and oh god - you summon whatever spirits you believe in and push as hard as you can to get the crushing weight off your chest, and then your second thought is - the airbag didn’t deploy, because if it had, your head wouldn’t be pounding with the weight of a thousand suns and why is there so much red liquid on your chest, on your face, on your hands, and splattering all over the twisted leather surfaces, and you can finally move again, and this is when the pain hits, so you start screaming - there’s glass in your face, you’re trapped upside-down in the driver’s seat of a red SUV, with the A-pillar pinning your arms down and your leg trapped in an abyss of wires and torn plastic, and you still can’t move your upper body.

And that is when you realize you’re going to die here, alone, at 16 years old, on the side of the road, having accomplished nothing in life save for destruction and pain, and you’ll be nothing but a footnote in the evening news. Nobody will miss you, you think, because you never thought about others, never said enough, and yet, it was always too much.

But at that moment, as you sob and scream violently, you’re not yet sixteen - in your head, your mom is cradling you as a baby, rocking you back and forth amidst the broken glass and still-blinking flashers - you’re watching yourself bike without training wheels for the first time, the day you started 6th grade and met your future best friend, the moment your driving instructor handed over your temporary license, less than 2 weeks prior. Your mind is playing back every single positive moment to keep you alive, every formative moment that took your journey here, in this ditch, in shock, and conscious, and it’s working.

The irony sets in briefly, and you almost allow yourself a weak chuckle, because out of all the times you skirted the line, the one time that you were fully obeying road signs and driving the limit, of course, is the time where you find yourself sliding 2 wheels into a roadside ditch, and then panicking, flooring the gas, and suddenly being turned skywards - and the last thing you see before you lose consciousness is a whole lot of green, green like the color of YWS moderators, like the “A” button on an Xbox Controller, but you don’t have anything to say but a mental curse word before everything goes black. And at this moment, having recovered from a full blackout, you’re alive, but for how much longer, you don’t know, so you really can't do anything but scream in pain, because your leg is still trapped, and your chest is still numb, and something's probably broken in your neck.

And as the seconds - or maybe minutes, you don't know anymore, because time has lost all meaning when you feel like you're about to die, tick by, you see your friend, with tears in her eyes, warning you - i was afraid this would happen, please, you're scaring me - and your mind fills with thick regret that the last thing you threw at her was an insult. And your best friends, both of them, sobbing as they walk down the church aisle with your casket on their shoulders. And all of the people online who will never know what strand in your mind broke and caused your demise.

But most of all, you’re fixated upon your mom’s face as she hands you the car keys last week, telling you that she trusts you with your own life now, so use it wisely - and the only thing you can really muster is that you’ve disappointed her, and now yourself, so maybe, just maybe, you deserve all of this, and death will be the punishment for your violations.