Kyle took me to Paranormal Activity 2 last night. I was excited at first, but as the movie progressed, I got more and more anxious. Several parts made me tear up because I was so scared, and other parts made me jump and twist, almost breaking Kyle’s hand and wrist, which I was holding very tightly.
After the movie, we walked back to the car, with me avoiding the puddles because my shoes are so worn out, rain would seep in. Rain was standing in huge puddles; everything was wet.
We started to drive back to Kyle’s house, and I was catching up on texts from during the movie.
All of a sudden, during a turn, the car started fishtailing on the wet road. It went to one side, and I saw Kyle jerk the wheel to the other side. It went on like that for what seemed like hours, but was only actually a few seconds. The car straightened out, and I heard Kyle give an audible sigh of relief.
I started screaming at him, telling him that you don’t jerk the wheel, that’s what makes you flip. And then I lost it. I started sobbing uncontrollably, my entire body shaking, hot tears streaming down my face. I was gripping my phone with one hand, and the handle of the door with the other. I couldn’t make myself let go of either, even though my hands were cold, and hurt really bad from holding so tightly. Kyle’s hand was on my thigh, comforting me with its warmth.
The scene of my car accident kept playing through my head, an endless loop that terrified me.
I was so mad. How dare he tell me that I can’t hang out with my friends! I took both hands off the wheel, kept my foot on the gas, and looked down at my phone, furiously typing a response before I ran out of service. I looked up, just to check if I was on the road. The speedometer caught my eye. I was going 73, and the speed limit was 65. I was going off the road.
Instinct told me to get back on the road, and I jerked the wheel, a sickening feeling roiling in my gut. I started fishtailing. I knew what was coming before it even happened. My 2 month old puppy was in the car.
The car kept fishtailing, and then I was airborne. My life flashed before my eyes; I see my dad, my brother, my sister, my nephew, my grandma, and then finally, I see Kyle. I had my eyes open, and I kept telling myself, “This can’t be happening to me. It’s so unfair to die.”
The metal of the car smashing into the ground, top than bottom, top than bottom, over and over made me scream. The scream still echoes in my head.
The windshield shatters, spraying glass chips and dirt all over my face. I finally close my eyes, holding tight to the steering wheel. I taste dirt in my mouth and stop screaming.
The car finally stops slamming into the ground.
The window on my side is smashed so small, but I tell myself, “If your head can fit out, so can the rest of you.” I reach for my seat belt, scared that it won’t open. It clicks, and without thinking of the glass all over, without thinking about my dog, I drag myself out the window.
It’s a tight fit, but I manage to squirm enough to get out.
Once the ground is beneath my feet, I look around. The car is almost buried under the dirt it dug up. There’s glass everywhere, glinting in the sun. I see the chrome of my phone and hurry towards it.
I fall to the ground, crawling to the edge of the road, trying to get away from the car.
The wheels are still spinning. I feel like if I touched them, they would burn me.
I sit, mesmerized by the sight of my blood dripping. It rolls down my arm, and then drips onto the grass, where it rolls down the stalk, and soaks into the dirt.
I see Salem up on a hill in the distance. He’s sitting there, watching me. He’s so small.
I call home. I’m hyperventilating, and I can’t make my mouth form the words it needs to form. My grandma, who answered, hands the phone to my dad just as a car slams to a stop and people get out.
The women rush to me, holding me, asking me if I’m okay. Someone takes the phone from my hand and tells my dad that I’m alright but he needs to come. The directions are wrong. I try to explain that I’m “up top”, but the man ignores me.
Before long, there are cars everywhere, people swarming me, taking my hand, holding my neck. A man is holding Salem, who is whining and fighting to get to me. I hear the man talk to Salem, “Whoa buddy, she’s alright, look, there she is. You’re okay, little guy.”
Then my dad is there, yelling my name, asking questions. I can’t breathe, let alone explain what just happened to me.
I make Pat call Kyle; I expect him to be freaking out, not knowing where I am. I tell dad that I was texting him, in a halting sort of way.
They strap me to a board, my blood is all over people’s hands. The color is the only thing I’m able to focus on.
Finally, we get back to Kyle’s house. I step out of the car, shaky. My legs are jelly, unable to hold my weight. We get inside the house, Kyle’s mom ruffles my hair, telling me that it’s cute when it’s down. Then she sees my face and her voice holds a note of panic when she asks, “What happened?” Kyle explains. She asks if we’re okay, if we hit anything, etc. While he explains, I escape to the bathroom to compose myself. My face is white, my mascara is streaming down my cheeks, and caught in the hollows under my eyes.
When I come out, everything is suddenly okay, and I try to forget. I make some tea to calm my body down, which is still shaking. While we sit at the table, Kyle’s mom is across from me. I feel her watching me. I look up when she asks, “Did it remind you of your accident?”
I look away, but I nod. I change the subject.
Then, while our laundry is finishing up, we watch Hercules. I feel better. We head back to the dorms when the movie finishes up, and go to bed. I don’t dream, which is a relief.
On a lighter note: I got some new makeup bags, because I’ve ordered new makeup. They’re super cute.
They’re from Wal-Mart, and the brand is Modella. I can’t wait to fill them up with all my new makeup.
The big bag will be the main case. The second one, I haven’t really decided what I’m going to do with, and the smallest bag with hold my brushes, when I get some.