Fog Horse

“The room is unfamiliar. I don’t know how I got here.” I said groggily, looking up at the doctor who was staring back at me. 

“You don’t remember anything? How about the crash? Do you remember that?” He asked, trying to mask his concern. 

“Crash? What crash?” I panic, looking around I realize I am in a hospital room, my eyes sting from the surgical lights and I start to hyperventilate. Who were these people around me? Nurses? 

“Ma’am, everything is ok.” He said, sensing my panic, “You were in a traffic collision on the highway a week ago. The paramedics pulled you from the wreckage and brought you here. You have been in a coma and this is the first time you have woken up. Are you feeling any pain?” 

Once he asked that question, my body lit up like the fourth of July. Sharp pains were radiating up my legs, the sensation of my chest being crushed threw me into full blown terror. 

“Yes, yes, yes I’m in pain! My legs, please, they hurt.” The hyperventilating wasn’t helping, panic and fear were the only things I was feeling and my eyes were darting back and forth trying to make sense of the situation. 

“Alright, just breathe,” he said as he moved quickly to the side of my bed. He checked my pulse and hit a small button connected to what I figured was my IV. “I have just given you a small dose of Morphine. You should start to feel relief in the next minute or so. And… your pulse is starting to normalize.” 

It was at that time I started to feel relaxed and less anxious and afraid. I took a breath and shut my eyes. Then it happened.I remembered. It was horrific. 

What started out as a normal Tuesday would turn into anything but. I remember waking up, the sun hadn’t risen yet, it was just barely dawn and outside the fog was thick. Tuesdays were my day to deliver Meals on Wheels, which was always a treat because my grandmother, June, was on my route. I was so looking forward to the day ahead, or at least thats how the day began. 

Before I picked up the deliveries, I had to stop by my friends farm to check on her horses and make sure they were fed and watered. She was out of town and was counting on me to make sure they were taken care of. Lauren, who I grew up with, bred and raised Clydesdale horses, “The finest west of the Mississippi.” She would always say to anyone that asked, occasionally she would throw in a sassy wink if she was feeling herself.

Fox Glove Farm, that was her operation, out in the middle of the country. A sprawling 120 acres of pasture settled at the base of Sqwuak Mountain. To anyone that wasn’t from here, it was paradise on Earth, a moody Pacific Northwest town where everyone knew everyone. I happened to know everyone because I grew up here, living in the gloom all my life. When you don’t know any better, the gray is home and the wilderness that surrounds you is your commute. 

Once I was dressed, I picked up my bag from the hall tree and opened my creaky front door. The cold air woke me up even more than my coffee did. I got into my cute little Mazda SUV I purchased the week prior with a smile on my face. Normally I wasn’t a morning person, but the new car smell brought my spirits up. 

“Here we go,” I said to myself putting my coffee in my cupholder. Talking to myself, although weird, was habit I had every since i was a little girl. Starting the car I yelled “Showtime!” to pump myself up. The engine roared and I backed out of my driveway, which butted up to the highway that would lead me to the farm. 

“No traffic today, score!” Without hesitation I pushed my gas peddle down, I was known for driving like a bat out of hell. The fog was still dense, I could barely see 40 feet ahead, but I knew these roads like the back of my hand. I could’ve of driven there blindfolded, with both hands tied behind my back. 

“This feels like a Britney morning,” I said as I grabbed my phone to turn on my playlist. The mist of the morning whizzing by my windows. Of course, I fumbled my phone and dropped it on the floor of the passenger seat. I leaned down to grab it, but my arm was too short to reach. I sat up quickly to pull my seatbelt loose and leaned further to snatch it from the floor. 

When I looked back up, there was no time to react. Everything happened to quickly, but yet it was all in slow motion. 

Standing in front of me in the middle of the road, surrounded by gray mist, was a giant black horse. This horse was so huge I thought it was a tree in the road that had fallen. I slammed on the breaks, and jerked the steering wheel to avoid smashing into the horse. My breath caught in my throat as I managed to miss him, but not the car in oncoming traffic barreling toward me. 

The sound of metal on metal, in the quiet valley, was like an atomic bomb in my ears. We collided and the crunching sound of our vehicles, combined with the steam and fog surrounding us, was disorienting. My car had completely gone off the road and after rolling 3 times, landed upside down in the deep ditch by the road. The windows and windshield shattered, allowing glass and gravel from the road to steamroll through the car and rip my skin to shreds. I heard screams from outside, but couldn’t pay attention because the airbags deployed, knocking me unconscious. 

I must have passed out, because a week later, when I opened my eyes, I was at Sqwuak Valley Memorial Hospital.