[WAR] Pulled From the Wreckage

[Neo Emolga]

PULLED FROM THE WRECKAGE

It stopped.

It had continued the same way for years, but today was different.

People always grumbled at the traffic jams. They always thought of how they'd be late for work, or would miss a doctor's appointment and have to reschedule, or have to wait for the next movie showing. Inch by inch, they crawled up, one by one, cars and trucks, to witness the aftermath of some terrible collision. Cops, ambulance, tow trucks, pieces to sweep up. They'd take a glance at the accident. They slowed to assess the damage with shock and awe. They'd make up their own story. Then face forward. They then step on the gas, and then forget they ever saw anything. It was over in a minute. It was forgotten completely.

Or they'd hear about the lethal accident on interstate number whatever, and remark about how it was going to make them late coming home or they'd have to take an alternate route. Pete would be late to meet his friends at the bar. Sarah would be late to the gym. Carl's basketball tickets would go to waste.

They don't think about those killed in that accident.

They don't stop to think. They didn't realize someone just died and had to give up everything. And that someone was another person's brother. Or another person's friend. And that person was someone's father, son, daughter, mother, sister, cousin, or uncle. They don't think about the fact that out there, someone didn't come home that day. Someone's kid didn't make it to school, some guy just trying to make it through life never made it to work, or the people that couldn't wait for that someone to come home never got to see them again. The dinner they were supposed to have with friends and family would replaced with tears at the local hospital that night.

It started with a ladder for me.

A ladder that wasn't tied down properly. It slipped off the top of a repair truck and flew through the windshield of the white Honda Accord next to me. They unconsciously swerved right. They struck my left side, I lost control, and my car ran off the road tore through the metal guard rail. A screech. The metallic scream. The twenty seconds that changed everything.

I flipped over eight times down that hill. My life flashed, memories of the childhood I left years ago, family, friends, school, growing up. A birthday cake, mom's love, a baseball game with dad, my college roommates, my wife. The dreams I had. The pieces of glass were memories, the dust was the breath of yesterday. Again and again, it struck the ground, becoming less and less of itself every time the cycle continued, further down into the trench. It all slowed to a crawl, fell upside-down, and lay there, broken. Taken. Makeshift.

It stopped.

I stepped out for a moment.

It was wrecked. Every piece of it. The windshield smashed. The hood and engine crushed. The broken mirror. The twisted wheel. The thing that gave me the freedom to go and go as I pleased was gutted. It was my car. It was all. And nothing at all. People would see it and never know its story. Never know that what lay there was once the excitement someone once drove out of the dealer's lot, enjoyed for years to take friends and family across town, cruised down the highway listening to rock music, and met its end on this very highway, down this very hill.

No one would know that story. And next week, it would be in a junkyard filled with other cars with similar stories. Once the love of the showroom, once the odyssey of families and friends going to work or heading off to the next adventure, now resting in a graveyard of its own. And time demands to move on.

And then I saw the remains of a man I didn't immediately recognize as myself. But when I did, I suddenly questioned everything. Face pressed against my shoulder. Blood on my shirt. Glass. The broken neck. The shut eyes of a man that didn't want to die. The open mouth of a man that screamed and knew he would...

Dinner would soon be ready, but it would go cold tonight. A place at the table was set, but it be empty now. And that chair would be vacant, now without an owner.

"Are you ready to go now?"

I had to be. But in a way, I couldn't help but feel there was always something I left behind here. But it would only be for now. The memory only a rental. In a thousand years or a million years, this one scene would be gone, its memory flushed. The wreck would be hoisted out, and the seasons would pass. Time would make the blood and glass disappear. No one would ever know I was here. And time and life would march on.

I then understood I didn't want to wait for that erasure to move on.

"Let's go," I told the angel.

Her long golden hair, her flowing gown, her snow-white wings. The warm smile that told me it was all okay. The assurance to understand it all. The veil was gone, and I saw what those still on the tarmac didn't see. The traffic stopped never saw me pulled from the wreckage, carried overhead, and taken upward. She took me by the hand and I felt so weightless in that endless moment. For the first time, I never felt this lost before, but at the same time, I never felt so much like I was on the right track.

My heart felt open. My soul flared like a light. I was right to believe, and now shown to know. For the comfort I felt as she carried me away, I knew the others would someday take this same path. Friends, family, relatives, they would all see this. They would be guided and they would be found. She showed me down the right path, and then I was on my own, not sure whether I was flying, floating, or just being guided to some bright light of life. I wasn't sure if this was really Heaven or just the road to get there.

"Come on, come on, you can do it!" She cheered me on, flying besides me.

The clouds were open. The sun on my back. The stars in my reach. All at once together but millions of miles away. Was I flying without wings, or did I just not notice them yet? It was all forward from here, no looking back. You bet I could do this.

"Yes... I can," I told her.

"You're getting so close, just keep going!" She shouted with a smile.

Just keep going. It was hard to believe this wasn't paradise yet, but I chased onward, knowing the way without ever having gone down it before.

"Yes... it's so awesome..." I replied, totally enraptured, flying faster than comprehension.

Stars, galaxies, space and time itself was past. For once, what seemed endlessly expansive was small. Vacant. Empty. Behind me was the cold, soundlessness of space. Before me was the only home anyone ever needed. White. Celestial. Eternal. Forever from everything else. I saw it open up before me. I wasn't even sure what to expect when I stepped in but all I knew was I wanted to be there.

All the sorrows and fears I left behind. The anxiety, the pain, the struggle. We won the good fight.

"You're almost there!" She cheered.

"...Thank you."

And she led me in.

I never did look back. I never did turn around just for a moment to curiously see how small the world was, and how tiny that one car accident had been in the scope of the universe and all of eternity. There was no need to see that.

The pains, the heartache we humans have always had to face will be flushed away. The faith we have will wash the fear away, and once we've given up everything here, we'll be free to do anything.

It stopped.

But it's the people that always keep moving on.

[Caite-chan]

I really liked this even though anything that just sounds oh so wrong...lol. So I really liked it just hate what happened. After the accident I couldn't help but to see everything from the angels point of view and wanting to keep looking down at everything.

[Grassy_Aggron]

So much truth in this story - people don't think about the accidents and how it affects people. Having had a neighbor, my sister's best friend, die in a car accident, this one hits a bit close to home for me and I admit I teared up a bit.

This was well done Neo - there was a few fragment sentences and a typo, but it still delivered its point across beautifully. I also really like the respect you gave to the car, since as odd as it might seem, you could view them as being alive too. They get sick, they break down, they have a beating heart (that engine) that if it fails, chances are you aren't going to fix it. So it was a nice touch.