They Say

They say everything slows down when you're in an accident, like the world is running in slow motion. They also say you see your whole life flash before your eyes right before you die. Either I did it wrong or 'They' have as much of a clue about dying as they do about everything else.

I didn't see the van that ran up the kerb because the driver was trying to read a map instead of the road. I didn't do some graceful bullet-time sequence before getting crushed into that beautifully crafted stone wall. My life did not flash before my eyes as my broken body desperately tried to work around crushed ribs and punctured lungs. I got one look into the horrified eyes of the driver before my own vision started to dim. I thought they may have been the bluest eyes I'd ever seen, which seems to be a rather strange and somewhat redundant last thought to have.

A whirl of thoughts struck me when I realised I was no longer attached to my body, the most pressing for some reason was how to refer to myself now that I was not a 'self'? There was no looking down upon my body from on high while courageous bystanders and medics tried revive me. No crowd of ghostly relatives waiting in the wings to take me to some mythical better place. My pious Aunt Gina would be quite disappointed to learn that no angels, saints or other such religious figures were waiting to guide me to any gates, pearly or otherwise, although I'm sure she would conclude that such a lack of guidance must be down to my many transgressions during my time wandering the planet. Not that there were any pitchfork wielding characters waiting to drag me off either, which was not really surprising considering I didn’t believe in any of that stuff, and yet still somehow a relief. I guess a part of me always wondered. The whole situation felt pretty anticlimactic after the many lectures I had endured as a child.

It seemed to take both an age and no time at all for these thoughts to quiet themselves and I was left pondering the most startling thing of all. I knew. I could not describe exactly what I knew for every label I tried to put on it seemed severely lacking. It was more of a sense of understanding, a recognition of everything around me. I sensed the agitation in the bodies of the bystanders, and passion in the medics that were desperately trying to revive my body. I knew the moment that passion turned to disappointment and sadness as they realised that there was no way my body could be fixed. I felt the grim determination that took its place when they kept trying against all the odds. I knew that Blue Eyes was rapidly sinking into a state of shock, and that unless someone pulled his attention away from my battered body pretty damn fast he was not going to be in a fit state to answer questions any time soon.

The one thing I did not know however, was what the hell I was supposed to do now? I mean seriously, where was this light I was meant to be walking towards. How could everybody have it so wrong? I felt like the forgotten bystander at a party, drink in hand, the world carrying on around me with no awareness that I existed at all. Talk about teenage flashbacks, it kinda sucked if I'm honest.

I turned my attention back to Blue Eyes. He seemed to be fully gone now, slumped against the side of his van, eyes completely unfocused. He looked well built, taller than I expected, yet oddly vulnerable. I was a little shocked that no one had bothered to check on him yet. I get that the medics were busy but I was clearly a write off so its not like they needed all hands on deck, although it seemed that they were still insisting on battling on. Maybe there is a time limit or something before they're allowed to call it. I had no clue how long it had been since I was hit, I didn't seem to have my watch in this form and I had no sense of time passing.

Finally some guy in an expensive suit approached the driver, he didn't look like a cop though and he definitely wasn't a medic. He gave off some really creepy vibes too, different to everyone else around here and not in a good way. I didn't want him anywhere near my driver. My driver? My killer more like. Since when did I get all possessive about random strangers?

I felt something fizz. An odd sensation that would have sent a shiver down my spine if I had a body right now, and I finally had the sense of being seen. That creepy dude was staring at me with just a hint of a smile on his face and all of a sudden everything felt all kinds of wrong. I needed to get out of there and I needed to get him away from Blue Eyes. The same knowing that hit me earlier struck again and I knew without a doubt that this was not how shit was supposed to go down. He gestured towards my body and creep version two stepped out from nowhere to speak to the medics, whilst the original helped Blue Eyes up and towards a innocuous looking sedan.

I looked back towards my body. The medics were loading it up into the ambulance, still fighting hard despite no one being home, gotta give them credit for trying when they already knew it was hopeless, it looked like I was hooked up to at least two different machines. What to do? My corpse and creep number 2, or Blue Eyes and creep number 1? I moved towards the sedan, this was all kinds of messed up but maybe I need to help the guy that killed me?