I was in a horrific car accident six months ago where my wife, son and I died. I can remember the sound of metal as it squeaked, squealed and creaked around us, the man on the radio seemed to slow as the drunk driver in the SUV hit us full on; then everything went black.
I woke up in hospital, a somber doctor revealed that my wife and son had died on impact. I told him that I did too, but he didn’t believe me. He tried to prove this to me by showing me my EKG readings, but they can fake that, can’t they.
It was strange, I didn’t feel sad for my loss, in fact, I felt nothing at all. My mother visited and asked why I was not upset, the doctors told her I was in shock. I didn’t have the heart to tell her I was dead.
Therapy started soon after I was released, I could not work, I had no motivation. Each time they took my blood pressure they showed me the results, they were incredibly very low, but at least there were readings. The doctors admitted the MRI results were abnormal, but then again, there was activity; you cannot argue with science.
I’ve been feeling much better lately, the sessions are working, I think. I feel like I am alive, maybe. I feel like I could experience happiness again.
But, when I look in the mirror, my skin is yellowing and turning purple. I pick at it, slivers fall off and they smell like rotten meat.
That can’t be right…