What is it you dream of?
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My hands were grasped firmly to the leather steering wheel before me. Glancing downwards, I recognized the blue dim lighting of the dashboard before me.
I also recognized --- that these hands were not mine.
This was immediately evident due to the golden circlet upon my right ring finger; not to mention that these hands were much broader than my own. The skin belonging to these hands appeared to be far more rugged compared to what I previously remembered were mine.
“Hey….are you okay?”
An awfully familiar, yet distant voice called out to what I assumed was me. It was in all regards a spectacularly sympathetic and affectionate voice.
My heart quivered --- the deep ache that is longing and grief had returned to my soul. I had wanted to hear this voice --- just one last time.
I gradually rotated my head to meet the concerned, yet beautiful eyes of ---
“M-mom?” I stammered out as a tear ran down my cheek.
“Dear…. You aren’t looking so we-- …. Why are you crying?”
I was utterly speechless. A lump caught in my throat as the near-impenetrable seal guarding my emotions shattered.
With eyes blurred by tears, I glanced at the rear-view mirror, only to see something impossible.
---Myself.
No --- not my present self. What I perceived reflecting in the mirror was a “me” from nearly a decade ago. I was surrounded by the thick red blanket my own mother had sewn for me, tranquilly asleep whilst leaning against the closed car window.
“W-what is t-this?” I managed to say in fragments as my eyes widened in shock upon the sight I was beholding.
“H-hey - WATCH O-”
…
…
The shrill screech of tires, the blinding aura of headlights, the deafening collision of metal on metal, the disorienting effect a rolling car, the shattered glass slicing exposed skin the screams the pain and ohthepai--
--- All the sensations one would expect during a high velocity accident.
The road beneath “me” was slick with rain --- except it wasn’t raining.
Upon further notice, the “rain” wasn’t cold despite the frigid air beginning to freeze over my tear soaked eyelids. On the contrary, it was actually quite soothing and cozy~. I felt as though I should just lay there and embrace the comforting warm-
No --- Something wasn’t right here.
Certainly not, it’s perfectly comfortable here.
You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.
No it’s not.
Yes it is.
It isn’t
It is.
Just embrace the warmth
I will not
Do it.
SHUT THE FUCK UP ALREADY!
Functionality returned to my muscles with a throb of a struggling heart. With a glide of my hand, I verified the worst of my fears. Congealing in the puddle beneath me and soaking an utterly mangled appendage, if one could even call it one, was ---
Blood...
*Ku-*
*Ku ku - hk*
I-I couldn’t breathe.
*Aa, au…*
My lungs won’t respond.
*Bu, ue—!*
I’m drowning….
*..Hk!*
.....In my own blood.
*..Hk ..Hk!*
I’m shutting down…
*..Hk ..Hk ..Hk!*
I’m gonna… I’m gonna ---
Die.
A broken hand, akin to the chime of a silver bell at that moment, grasped my own.
Despite both our hands being frozen over with blood, I felt a warmth that wasn’t physically there.
“I- kh..hk! R-remember, I will a-always love y-you….”
“M--me…. T-too.”
Her grip on my hand wavered, then strengthened once more.
“I-I’m sorry f-for cau-causi...”
---Her grip then weakened, and her arm hit the asphalt beneath us with a splatter...
A splatter -- of our mixed blood below.
Laughable. Even at the end of her life, I couldn’t even give her the words her husband -- my dad -- would say to her.
It’s not fair.
Not at all.
This isn’t real.
It is.
I don’t deserve this.
Yes you do.
It’s not my fault!
It is.
No- no it’s n-no…
As I lay atop bitter, blood stricken asphalt in between both the past and present --
--- These are the only thoughts I can muster --
With the sickening taste of copper leading me to oblivion.