Stephanie Batts
Twisted
Calmness. Magnificently beautiful. God. I want to see God. Enormous trees. Colors. Beautiful colors. Every shade in the sky. Rivers flowing. Crisp, sweet smelling air. Vastness. An endless plain of grass. Angel. My guardian angel. God. I want to see Go...
“Ma’am! Ma’am, can you hear me?”
I blink my eyes. Something is dripping into them, and it burns. Raising a hand to wipe it away, I see that my arm is bound up and I can’t reach my forehead to stop whatever it is that is getting into my eyes. The person beside me repeats the question.
“Ma’am. Ma’am, can you hear me?”
I look at them. It’s a police officer. The dark of the night is cut sharply be the flicker of lights on emergency vehicles. I try to look around and I notice that my view is completely blocked by the emergency vehicles. Something is still dripping into my eyes, stinging, burning. I try to wipe it away again, and finally someone notices, and gently wipes away what has been dripping and burning. Trying to find my voice, I’m startled to hear a dry, cracked voice answer “Thank you.”
“Ma’am, can you tell me what happened?”
I blink, drawing my attention back to the officer who is sitting at my side. Slowly, sensation and realization kick in, I start to shake. Memories flood my senses. Looking away I see the grass, an almost neon green against the stark black of night, and the flashing white-blue lights of the police car. We’d been driving home from getting Christmas presents for our two little girls. They both really wanted a pink electric Barbie car, but we couldn’t afford one. Instead, we got them each little dolls with matching outfits. I had gotten angry at my husband because we didn’t have enough money and he lost his job. We were screaming and yelling at each other. A blink and the silver grey shadow, almost ghostlike, had been in front of us. I hadn’t had time to scream before the jarring crunch of breaking glass and the shriek of metal bending in ways it was never designed to hit me, and the warm embrace of darkness surrounded me, pulling me in like a lover’s caress.
“Ma’am, can you tell me what happened?”
I blink, drawing my attention back to the officer who is sitting at my side. Slowly, sensation and realization kick in, I start to shake. Memories flood my senses. Looking away I see the grass, an almost neon green against the stark black of night, and the flashing white-blue lights of the police car. We’d been driving home from getting Christmas presents for our two little girls. They both really wanted a pink electric Barbie car, but we couldn’t afford one. Instead, we got them each little dolls with matching outfits. I had gotten angry at my husband because we didn’t have enough money and he lost his job. We were screaming and yelling at each other. A blink and the silver grey shadow, almost ghostlike, had been in front of us. I hadn’t had time to scream before the jarring crunch of breaking glass and the shriek of metal bending in ways it was never designed to hit me, and the warm embrace of darkness surrounded me, pulling me in like a lover’s caress.
I tell all of this to the officer beside me in halting, unsteady words, and the weakness of my own voice in the silence is shocking to my ears. He jots down notes, nodding, not looking at me as he does. Something has happened beyond the basic things of a car accident. The office places his hand on my shoulder, thanks me and then walks away, his navy blue uniform fading into the inky blackness of the night. A medic steps in front of me telling me that she’s going to do something to me. I’m not listening; I’m looking around for what is going on. An ambulance pulls away. Silent, but for the crunch of the gravel under the tires, and only the headlights piercing the wall of darkness as it slowly slinks away into the night. The cold sculpture of twisted metal briefly lit in the lights, and the silence is like puzzle pieces falling into place as we pass by the scene in the ambulance. I can’t cry.
There are no tears. I’m torn to the depths of my soul. The would-haves, the could-haves, the should-have beens, scream wildly through my mind. I want to scream, let out a primal expression of the horrors in my soul. My life, changed in a heartbeat. A life gone. A single breath, separating life and death. A single heartbeat, silenced forever. A lone crystalline tear slides down my cheek, tracing a clean path through the dirt on my face. I know I have lost my husband. I can feel his absence in my soul. I know this is not a normal car accident; there’s something more that happened.
----
“Mrs. Holmes? Are you awake?” the nurse whispered into my ear.
I woke up from the deepest sleep I have ever experienced. I was startled to see the nurse so close to my face, I jumped.
“H- Hi.” I said confused
“Hello, Mrs. Holmes. I’m from the CSI and I wanted to ask you a few questions.”
“Sure, you can ask anything.”
“Great! Well first I wanted to give you your husband’s wedding ring. It was recovered from the scene.”
“Thanks”, I exasperated as I took it from her hand.
“Mrs. Holmes, Was your husband acting strange at anytime during the week before the crash?”
“Uh, no. I don’t think so. I remember though that he was staying a little bit later than he usually does at work, but that’s just because he had a big presentation he was going to do.”
“Okay. Did he mention anything about his ‘friends’?”
“What ‘friends’ are you talking about? David never had any problems with anyone. I assure you that he was the sweetest and gentlest man you would have ever met. Why are you asking these strange questions?”
“Mrs. Holmes, uh, we believe that, uh, your car crash wasn’t an accident.”
“What do you mean it wasn’t an accident?”
“Well, Mrs. Holmes we believe that someone was trying to kill your husband.”
“T-t-trying to kill my husband”, I said with tears streaming down my face.
“Yes, we are still investigating Mrs. Holmes. There is nothing to be worried about, but when you do leave the hospital we will provide twenty-four hour police watch until we can find who is at fault. Is that okay?”
“Yes, thank you I really appreciate that. Is someone going to hurt me too?”
“No, Mrs. Holmes. You will be safe and sound.”
----
“Knock, Knock, Knock”
I hadn’t heard from the police on duty today, it must be him telling me he is late or something.
“Hello? Who is it?” I say through the door
“This is David, your husband.” A raspy voice said on the other side of the door
I flung the door open. There is a man standing there, who is definitely not my dead husband, with a knife in his hand. I took a gasp of air into my lungs and shut the door as fast as I could, but it was too late. He pulled open the door with such strength and anger. I’m running up the stairs. Then, I feel a sharp pain around heart. Then, I see nothingness and feel no pain. I see light again. Finally. Angel. My guardian angel. God. Beautiful trees. Flowing rivers. God. I want to see God. There he is, finally. God and David. Happiness.
THE END
