Last Night

8 April. 2022

LAST NIGHT

I remember last night, the snow, the car, and their faces pale like an old black-and-white photographs. I recall seeing my breath turn to mist in the air and hearing the sirens pierce the peaceful silence with their raucous shrieking. My head burned with the sound and I had covered my ears with my gloved hands. The screeching continued to approach, soon the lights were so close I could see the red and blue flashes through my closed eyelids.

The first thing I asked as soon I regained consciousness was: “Where am I?”.  Although I don’t know why, because I knew where I was. I was in the hospital, lying on the plain white sheets with dials and machines all about my bed, I recognized only one of them, the screen which showed my heartbeat with a pulsing green line. I was greeted by a jolly nurse with a kind smile, which I later knew was not at all kind but instead pitiful and practiced because she, like all nurses always smiled, as they couldn’t say much ; it was always the surgeons that spoke. Then I looked down to see my left arm strapped in several layers of bandages, and I hadn’t noticed it before, but I couldn’t feel my fingers.

“What happened?” I asked. I looked at the nurse again and saw the small name tag pinned on her blue uniform, ‘Clara’ it read. “Of course, you wouldn’t remember. You were in an accident yesterday, but luckily only your arm was hurt,”once more there was that smile, and I answered with a slow nod. Again, I remembered what had happened, but I still questioned. Maybe it was because it felt right, like a rule, since from the many movies I had seen, people wake up in hospitals to ask those questions. Or maybe it was because I was curious to know how long they would conceal the entire truth from me. I suddenly felt a shock of pain go through my arm, I winced and moved my numb fingers as the pain disintegrated into a tingling sensation in my palm.

Clara left and I was alone to only the rhythmic beeping of the machines and my thoughts from last night. I wheeled my memory to before the crash. I was in the back seat of a black van with my best pal, Charlotte, we were snickering as we knew the glass of smoothie we had offered the driver before the journey was actually a cocktail. And we made sure he went the way where police would always be present to test for drunk drivers, it was all planned as the perfect scheme for some fun after he had acted all ‘responsible’ and refused to drive past the speed limit or let us poke our heads out the window ­­­­–– we didn’t get along. Soon, we were stopped by the police and the act with poker faces and expressions of false shock mixed with concern begun, after the policed had spoken to Charlotte’s brother– Andrew–angrily, he turned from the drivers seat and stared us dead in the eyes, and we could no longer hold our laughter and doubled over shaking.

“I will get you back after this, and trust me, I will,” he snarled before stamping his foot down and giving oil to the van. Ignoring the fierce yelling from the officer, the van shot forwards into the dimly lit, snow-filled streets ahead. Moments later there were sirens behind us, Charlotte and I took no notice of Andrew’s orders and rolled down the side window to stretch the upper half or our bodies out. We turned back to see the red and blue lights lighting up the path behind us, and laughed, satisfied with our success and overjoyed by the experience.

I was shaken out of my trance with Clara’s return, “Where are they?” I asked as soon as she entered, guilty for not having questioned earlier. Her wide smile seemed strained but then she laughed and said “They’re fine, you should focus on recovering first. Then maybe you may remember a bit more.” Lies, I thought, but if I really had forgotten, would the truth have made any difference?  I was not entirely confident in my memory of the crash but the undeniable tint of sorrow in the her last sentence seemed to reassure my doubts. Clara proceeded to tap around the instruments beside me, and I slipped back into my daydreams.

The window was still open but Charlotte had popped back into the van whilst I closed my eyes feeling the wind sting my face and bring my hair past my shoulders. Then the van made an abrupt turn and I was flung outwards, I managed to regain my balance but the van fell sideways, sliding across the slippery road. I heard Andrew curse and Charlotte scream, and then it was all black, I must have been knocked out, I figured.

Back at the hospital Clara had left again and I could see her through the glass windows of my room, she and an officer were speaking in hushed voices. But soon their mutters rose to whispered screams and I could guess that he insisted to see the three of us as soon as we awoke. I heard Clara denied, telling him I needed rest and both Charlotte and Andrew were still unconscious.... unconscious? I laughed to myself. Then I turned to the dial with the green line again, I didn’t know it if was my eyes, but I had noticed the pulse growing weaker. I could tell Clara was failing to persuade him and soon she had given in, triumphant, the officer took out a tape recorder and strutted past the pale faced nurse. He sat beside my bed, “Don’t you try and lie to me young lady, I will be interrogating the other two as soon as they open their eyes. And maybe you two girls are still underage, I’m not so sure of the red haired mister.” he put on a low, menacing tone. I was silent.

As he sorted his various files I saw the photographs of a distressed black van, broken at the side of the road, and the contents inside the van–tons of morphine and various other drugs– spilled across the snow. My mind was again pulled back to last night, I saw their bodies motionless on the road, everything was colorless except the distant lights and scarlet blood scattered in the glittering white snow and smeared across their lifeless faces. I had reached towards Charlotte and placed a trembling finger under her nose, there was no breath, and my arm dropped. I recall what the doctors said after I was taken into the ambulance, “They won’t make it....”I had heard, with the last of my awareness slipping away.

“You won’t talk to them,” I said abruptly to the officer, and he raised one eyebrow at me with a suspicious glint in his eyes. “There’s no need for you to wait until they wake. They’re dead.” I explained simply, the officer was skeptical. “If that were true girl, then why don’t you look sad, eh?” he grunted finally, peering at the nurse warily. “I wouldn’t be, because I’ll be dead soon as well. Wouldn’t I, Clara?” I answered as I glanced at the my heartbeat which was now yellow, and barely showing a pulse. The beeping sound was faster and faster, now intertwined with various warnings and flashes from the other machines . Clara walked by to turn the devices off, tears shining in her eyes.

I remember last night, the street lamp above me, the burning sensation in my arm and my stomach which had kept me from feeling the vile temperature. I remembered I looked down and saw the iron rod protruding from my stomach, blood forming a stream as it drained away from me, I felt no pain, only numbness and fear. I can’t recall the name of the anesthetic doctors had injected me with. But I know now that under the clean white sheets there were blood stained bandages. I was no longer afraid, my fear drowned my drowsiness, and I finally let my tears fall, the tears which I refused admit were there. With the tears came grief, which I had shut away too, the pain in my heart overwhelmed me. But I smiled, it would be over soon, and I lay back down on the soft pillows to watch the scene play over.

Once, twice, it was becoming unclear.

Three times, four, I was falling asleep.

Five, six times, now it was a dream.

Seven, eight times, and I was beginning to forget.

Nine times, ten times...and the next thing I knew, I was lying in the snowy street again, but I wasn’t hurt. Charlotte was there and so was Andrew, they helped me up. And we were taken together by the white lights in the distance. I remembered.