text: It happens fast, faster than they show in the movies or TV. Just a moment passes and then everything is over. Death, it’s not something I ever feared, my parents were pastors, so I have always been confident of an afterlife, but the thought of your own death isn’t something most of us linger on. But today is different. Today it happened, no pain, no long goodbyes and certainly no poetic last words. The most I got out before slamming into the tree was “Oh shit” and then I was standing here. I have to say that this is not how I saw it ending, I have survived two snake bites, a stabbing and a less than friendly deer encounter. I thought I was indestructible; I suppose most teens do but there I am lifeless and so very pale. I feel like I should panic, freak out and beg for just one more chance to live but I just can’t find it in me. This feels like the end, it’s not like I haven’t been given my fair share of do-overs and close calls. Besides this one was my fault plain and simple, I was driving too fast on a soaked back road, a mistake made by countless reckless kids driving daddy's favorite car, most of us get away with it, not all though. Today was no different than yesterday. The same routine and the same boring conversations, just another day. I had lunch made and was just begging to sit when my brother called. He was out of school early and needed me to pick him up. I begrudgingly put my plate away and grabbed the keys as I walked out the door and into the rain. Skipping over the puddles I made my way to the car and climbed into the driver's seat. It was a beautiful car, dad’s pride and joy. “You don’t get them like this, not used cars anyway.” That's what he always told me. He loved that car and did all he could to keep her pristine. I can’t say I was the best driver, but I wasn’t reckless, not because I didn’t want to be but because I knew that whatever I did to that car my father would do even worse to me. The drive from the house to the school usually takes twenty minutes, that's going at around 60mph. The rain was coming down hard then though, so I should have probably taken it a little slower today. I made this drive every day, I knew these back roads better than most of my relatives, I thought 55 mph sounds like a good compromise. We all have those ignorant thoughts sometimes. “It could never be me.” That's always what we tell ourselves. It’s not true though, what can happen will happen and I guarantee that you are never fully prepared for it. Like I said before it happens fast. I would be lying if I told you I knew exactly the moment my life was over. Maybe it was when I started the engine, maybe it was when I first felt the tires pull away from me, all I do know is that at no point in time was I in control. That's the scariest part, I could tell you all about the moment the car tilted on to its side, the anguished scream the brakes let out as they tried to stop three tons of metal from spiraling out of control. I could tell you about the moment I left the road and stared down that tree and finally found the to answer the question of what happens to an unstoppable force when it meets an immovable object. But none of that was what truly left an impact, it was how small I was, how insignificant I was in those few moments and just how little anything I did mattered after fate had taken control. I was given maybe four seconds to evaluate the situation and understand that this was it, nothing I can say will ever be able to convey that feeling knowing that these next few moments are your last. The feeling however is short lived, you feel a slight pinch and then immense darkness. Now what? Years of church and I just don’t feel adequately prepared for this moment. I wait for the stereotypical spirit drivel I was taught in Sunday School, but nothing happens. No bright light, no chorus of angels beckoning me home, hell I’d settle for the Dalai Lama offering me some tea before reincarnating me as a cricket but what I can’t bear is this silence. Just my thoughts and the blank stare of my own lifeless face as it goes straight through me. “I have to admit bud we have looked better” I can’t actually hear my voice, a bit disconcerting but far from my most pressing issue. The once pristine interior of fathers Cadillac now lies in total ruin. The leather of the seats torn by the massive shards of glass thrown by the shattering of the windshield and no evidence that the bonnet had ever even existed. I once again feel that I should be distraught, broken down in tears trying to make this right. I however, only feel an overwhelming sense of relief, mixed with guilt over the car of course but thoroughly relieved that I no longer have the responsibility of explaining to dad that his most prized possession was reduced to little more than a rubix cube on the side of some God forsaken country road. I don’t know that it’s his anger I fear so much as the disappointment in his eyes, in the words of Lt. Aldo Rain “I’ve been chewed out before.” I can handle the harshest of insults and jeers hell I’m okay with taking an ass whipping, but I can’t take being his disappointment. “Hey!” The voice is soft and laced with panic. A short stout man comes waddling down the embankment. He has a towel in one hand and his phone in the other. I don’t think either one is going to help in the current situation, but I appreciate the gesture I suppose. I didn’t see his face when he looked into the car, but I did hear him gag, part of me felt insulted. I didn't think I looked that bad, but I let it slide, I’m sure he didn’t see his day going like this either. He called the police and climbed into the cab of his car shaking, partially from the rain and partially from the shock I would suppose. The sirens didn't take too long to start slowly picking away at the silence, growing closer and closer as the rain began to fall even harder than before. They sent three patrol cars, an EMS and one Game Warden. The small man jumped out of his car and met the officers. “Are you okay?” They asked him as they sprung into action. I think there are probably more pressing matters than his wellbeing but I’m not the professional here. They eventually make their way to me, cut me from the seat and drag me out of the car. I don't know that I will ever find the words to describe just how strange a feeling it is to see yourself and not have any form of control. The closest I can relate it to is hearing your own voice on a recording. You know that's you; you know that those are your words and you said them, but no voice will ever sound more foreign than your own. “Christ, that's Nicole's boy” That was the first physical feeling I have had of the crash. My stomach dropped as if every horrible thing I had ever done was revealed all at once and now it was time to pay for them. Here I am staring down at my own lifeless corpse unfazed, yet the mere mention of my mother's name sends my world into a spiral. I hadn’t thought about them, not any of my sisters, not dad, not even my little brother. I don't have a physical body but that doesn't stop me from feeling pain in every aspect of my being, I have never feared much but not being there for the ones I love that’s one that haunts me. “He’s gone” The paramedic shook his head and loaded my body into the back of the ambulance. “I’ll notify the family, they’ll come I.'. D him” The officer leaned down into his car and grasped the radio. “Alright, we're good” The paramedic said to the driver and closed the doors to the ambulance. I’ve had my fair share of ambulance rides; most are filled with forced small talk and the basic medical questions but this one is hard. The medics casually talk about their day and holiday plans, joking about how much they hate their in-laws coming to stay for Christmas. You forget that this is their job, they see this every day and it doesn't faze them. In different circumstances I am sure that I would enjoy their company. I didn't notice much after that, we arrived at the hospital and took me into the morgue, leaving me there with the other bodies. “We just need you to identify the body” The double doors swung open and in walked my parents. Mother was beside herself, understandably so. Dad, he’s a stoic man. I have never seen him cry and I don’t know that I ever will. He held himself together for mom, but I can see it, the tears begging to be set free. Never felt so empty, so fundamentally broken as I do right now. I have taken away my parents' son, their child, their friend. I have never cared what happened to me but seeing them standing over me, watching my father kiss my forehead like he had done when I was a boy, I avoided the physical aspects of death but made up for it now. “I’m sorry” The only words I could manage as they turned away. I haven’t been prepared for anything that has happened today but watching them walk away, nothing will ever compare to that. I don’t know how long I’ve sat here now, minutes, hours, days but I’m still waiting for something. Waiting for that moment of redemption I was promised as a boy. I am a realist though, if it hasn't come by now then I doubt it will. I’ll just close my eyes, try and drift off. “Hey there boy!” The voice shook the walls, the thick southern drawl mixed with the gravelly tone that only comes from decades of cigarette smoke is instantly recognizable to me. “Pawpaw Steve?” my eyes open and there he is, albeit much younger and as healthy as I had ever seen him. He looked like the pictures hung on the walls of his house, the ones I always looked at when I was young. “Well yeah boy, I ain’t that different.” he smiled, I always loved his smile. It always made things seem okay. He placed his massive hand onto my shoulder and walked me towards the door. “Waited a long time for you son, I’ve got somewhere I want you to see.” He opened the door, and we stepped through. I left my fears behind; I knew I was going home and someday they would join me. Until then me and Pawpaw Steve had some catching up to do.