Scratchy Scarf

The faint beeping in my ear and hushed voices around me confused me. Where was I? Where was the sound of my fiance snoring beside me. The comforting weight of my cat on my legs. Wait, why couldn't I feel my legs at all. I opened my eyes to a searing bright light and gave my eyes time to see what was around me. My heartbeat sped up and a buzzer went off. I was surrounded by people all covered in hospital blankets and unconcious. Some looked normal. Some didnt even seem human. I felt the blanket across my arms and saw I wasnt an onlooker. I was one of them. The ICU UNDECIDEDS. The shadow people. The people all having the worst day they'd ever had. So muchfor being special. We always think we're better, and then life stomps us into the dirt and we realize we're no better than the rest of humanity.

As my mind cleared a bit, I remembered bits and pieces. The noise of the crash, like the monster under the bed, finally here to claim me, clashing and roaring its eagerness to finally have me. I remembered looking over at my fiance Eric and feeling all hope leave my body. He was bent over the steering wheel, so coated in his blood I couldn't see his face. I knew I was hurt too, I could feel that numbness that comes when you've been cut too deep. When your body tries to protect you from what you've done to it. I knew I needed to get out of the car. There was a garbage truck on top of our small camry and the roof of our car was barely holding it off us. I pulled at his hands, looking for signs of life. I didn't feel a pulse and I knew to perform any sort of CPR he had to be out of the car. I was crying and begging him to wake up. This sweet boy who had given me his heart with no strings attatched.

"Please don't die. Please be ok." I said it over and over like a prayer. I felt his breathing gurgle and stop. I was silent. Begging ever diety I'd ever heard of that he was ok. He just needed help. I felt the hot rush of my own blood sticking my clothes to me. I was hurt... and it was bad. But I felt nothing except how cold I was and how warm my blood was as it pulsed out of me with every breathe.

My purse and cell phone were smashed between my legs and the metal of the car. I gave Eric one more look of hope and despair and apologized for leaving him. Acting purely on the will to live, I put my coat over the edge of the broken glass and pulled my body out the window. My legs hung behind me, not painful except a dull throb and I screamed my anquish at the abscense of pain. Judging fr0m the blood comonig from me right leg and hip, I should have felt something. I prayed for pain in a way I'd never thought I would do. As my body fell from the window onto the dew coated grass beneath me, I let out a howl of pain that had nothing to do with the physical. I'd left him in there because I wasn't strong enough to get us both out.

I lay on the grass, the freezing dew seeping into my back. I looked up at the stars; god they were beautiful. I knew I was dying. Every beat of my heart coated me in more or my scalding hot blood. I'd read enough anatomy books to know that I didnt have much longer. Eric was dead inside that pile of metal and I flashed back to the last moment he'd been with me, he'd smiled at something silly I said and that smile was so full of life and love and something like pain. Maybe he'd seen the accident out of the corner of his eye. Maybe people about to die can feel the end like a shadow. I don't know. I just know I loved him and I'd never see him smile that joyous smile at me again.

Suddenly there were lights and voices. I knew they were here to help but all I could think is that they were too late for the man I loved. I felt guilt overwhelm me. Was I going to live and he wasn't? There was a feeling of peace but I told it to fuck off. I wasnt going to live without him. That simply wasn't happrening.

Two days ago had been Christmas. I had knitted Eric a super ugly, green, scratchy as hell scarf and he had acted like I had given him a new car. It was so ugly and he wore it those two days like it was his favorite. I loved him so much for that.

As the paramedics put me on the stretcher and got me ready to load onto the helicopter, I felt someone put that awful scarf in my hand and wrap it around my wrist. It had somehow survived with zero wear and tear. I still don't know who it was, but someone saw its importance to me and made sure I wouldn't lose it. It was a gift from Eric. I know thats ridiculous logically. But who else would have known the importance of that ugly, malformed, scratchy as hell scarf. Its silly, I know it. But as I felt my conciousness failing me, the itchiness of that scarf abraded at my conscious and gave me hope. Hope that there was enough life left in me to be irritated by its abrasiveness. Hope that Eric had given me a sign.

Logically, I know it must have been some kind paramedic wrapping me in warmth. But that one small kindness means everything to me. I remember my despair and my numbness and my desire to follow my love to whereever he'd gone. The scratchiness of that scarf and the meaning around it keep me tethered to this world even as I felt my life oozing out of me as my heart slowed. I knew he would want me to live. He hadn't been perfect by any means, but I'd loved him with everything in me.

Someone was saying my name. I could feel the pain now. So much pain. Like a blanket of hot agony I struggled to breathe through. I looked up into the lights that were flashing above me and as gravity change under me and I realized that the helicopter was lifting off, I felt the warmth of the scratchy green scarf in my hand and I knew everything was going to be ok. Whatever came next, life, death, something I couldn't hope to understand; I was ready. I had the scarf. I had my burning hope. The kindness of a stranger had linked me to to this plane of existance so inextricably that I wondered if I was something more than human now. A survivor. A fighter. A power.