Turbulence

The streetlights blurred together as the sound of metal clashing and screeching rang out. My ears did not hear them. They were far away on the island of Kauai listening to the sound of the waves roll through and feeling the warm sand between my hands. I think I was smiling when I died.

It didn't feel the way I thought it would. One second, I was scared about driving through the rain and the next I was crushed between two cars so tightly I had no idea if I was flipped upside down or upright. The pain was minimal. It was over in a flash, quite literally. It was the quiet that scared me. I closed my eyes, but the image was blank. The nothingness felt like a void I had been trying to fill my whole life, and in that moment I realized what true happiness was.

It's not that I wasn't happy. I had a life. A family. Friends and a dog that I loved, but I knew he would be taken care of. My life had been filled with so much death that my own only felt natural. At least it wasn't drawn out and spent in hospitals that smelled of plastic and cancer. Watching my boyfriend's life slowly wain was way worse than a quick car crash.

I did worry about my mom. How she would handle losing another child. She wasn't mentally stable after my brother, and for a moment I was worried she would be the next. All of this over a coffee. I had run out at home; the Nespresso pods had gotten expensive and my salary as a teacher wouldn't cut it, so I thought Starbucks would be a good option. The iced chai tea latte would be worth it, or so I thought.

The rain poured slowly out of the sky and I watched the street lights blur together. It's strange how the rain can skew one's perception of the world. The steering wheel was cold on my hands and I remember pulling my sweater over my palms so I didn't have to make contact with the cold leather. Now my hands feel warm. It is strange how the brain remembers warm memories in times of extreme trauma.

I felt my body float above the cars and the streets and the spitting of the rain; feeling weightless was something I could get used to. I saw two other bodies floating, but I could not speak to them. I wanted to cry thinking about the scene beneath me, but I was unable to. I tried to scream but no noise came out. I watched from my spot on a cloud as the fire trucks and cop cars screamed down the freeway. Unfortunate bystanders happened to be the first to witness the massacre before me. My car had been squashed between two others, and assuming those were the other two bodies I witnessed, I don't think they were fortunate enough to walk away either.

I tried to pray. Something I hadn't done in years, but something that I felt like I could do at this moment. I prayed for those watching. For their lives to not be ruined. I prayed as I watched firefighters use the jaws of life to detach my car from the one it had meshed with. I watched as policemen directed traffic and closed off parts of the road to shield everyone's eyes from the scene. I wanted to close my eyes to disappear from this place, but when I did the scene was cemented in my brain. They pulled stretchers out and I watched my body being carefully lifted onto the white stretcher. It was strange to see yourself from a different perspective. I looked much smaller than I thought I would. The scene played out for hours, but it felt like it had happened in seconds. How would I fill my time now?

I waited in the clouds as I felt the rain die down. The quiet echoed but now my thoughts filled the space. Feeling crept back into my hands and as I looked down they filled with color. I felt the color pink. Then purple. Then blue shot right through the middle of my body. The sensations were so strong I didn't have time to gasp before the next one rang through. My body felt like electricity. All I could see was color and the soft cloud I was sitting on turned ice cold. I felt a tear slide down my cheek and as I looked to my right I saw an outline that resembled my brother. I blinked and his brown, shaggy hair and side smile became clearer. I tried to run to him, to shout, but he simply held my hand and squeezed it.

It made sense that I would see my dead brother, but it didn't make sense that I couldn't speak to him. These feelings didn't make sense. He leaned into my ear and I heard him whisper, "It's going to be okay," as my eyes closed and I was surrounded by black. The quiet returned, but this time I did not feel so afraid. Kent was there to guide me, and I was ready to face whatever was next.

As my eyes opened, I was greeted by the bright lights I thought were a cliche. Instead of screeching metal, I heard monitors beeping and felt a warmness run through me. A hand was holding onto mine, and I squeezed it to let Kent know that I knew he was there. My eyes fluttered and instead of my brother, I saw my mother's worried face in snapshots. My heart began to beat faster and I heard the monitor kick-up.

"It's going to be okay," I heard a voice that was not my brother's tell my mother.

"How do you know that?" I heard her whisper back.

"Because you don't see miracles like this often," he responded.

I felt a smile spread across my face and relaxed my body into the bed that felt like a cloud. I realized true happiness feels different and comes in different ways at different times. I told my brother I loved him before feeling myself drift off into a deep and peaceful sleep.