We all know what happens after this. The whole guy waking up in the hospital after a car crash scene. I’ve seen it a hundred times on TV, and I’m only seventeen. We’ve all seen it, so there’s no need for another scene like that again starring me.
The thing nobody seems to know is how I got to the hospital. I should know because all I had was a concussion and some cuts and bumps and bruises. There is the fractured rib, but they say that will heal on its own. They ask if I play football, which is funny because I almost make a joke about being a cheerleader. But my head can’t think fast enough to make a joke like that.
There’s also that really deep gash on my thigh. The one where I lost enough blood to knock me out and get me close to death.
I want to ask if a thin, elderly lady carried me in on her back, but I don’t.
Mom doesn’t have an answer, and the doctors and nurses don’t know.
Some cops—not Solitary cops, but actual regular-looking policemen—come in to ask me about the accident. Another person—a woman—does the same. I mention that Lily’s car was hit from behind. I don’t get into specifics. Of course not. I don’t know who was driving the truck that hit us, but I have an idea.
Yeah, I’m pretty sure I know who did it, or at least who ordered it.
Mom is pretty shaken up. She doesn’t leave my side except to use the restroom, and she makes that quick. I tell her not to tell anybody, not to call Dad. I tell her that I’m fine.
Except, of course, that I’m not.
When I close my eyes, I can still see Lily’s body. Not next to me in the car. No. I can see her body mangled by a tree a dozen yards away from the crash.
I was wearing my seat belt. Lily wasn’t.
I remember more about those moments sitting trapped in a sideways car with a tree branch jutting through the window and against my thigh. Feeling warm and cold at the same time. Looking over to see Lily. This once beautiful, breathing figure full of life. Now discarded like someone’s trash.
In the hospital, then back home, the images of Lily remain.
There should be some kind of better ending. A more climactic ending. A more hopeful ending.
At least Jocelyn found hope.
But Lily …
I hear a thousand different statements from everybody. But the one that stands out the most is one from Dad.
There’s a battle going on. Over your mother and you. For your lives. For your souls.
I think back to that new gold dream that I thought had accidentally walked into my life and swept me off my feet. I think back to the entire summer and the beginning of the school year.
Think I lost this battle, Dad.
But as the saying goes, maybe there’s a war to win.
I just have to figure out how to get on the battlefield.