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“Bye, Dad. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
The door closes and I go collapse onto the sofa with a heavy sigh.
That… was a lot.
Two months of staying in the hospital, being surrounded by patients, doctors, nurses, my parents… It feels so good to get away.
It feels so good to be home. To be alone.
I close my eyes and take a deep breath, loving the silence. No beeping, no footsteps, no anxious mother asking me if I’m okay every ten seconds.
This is paradise.
I still can’t get over what happened. One second, I was driving down the freeway, singing a Taylor Swift song at the top of my lungs, and then out of nowhere, a car smashed into mine and I was flipping through the air.
Crunching metal, broken glass, then… peace.
I remember walking out and feeling this overwhelming sense of calm. My body was hanging upside-down in the car. I can remember it vividly. Blood dripping along my cheek. My black hair hanging straight down. My arms limp.
I had known immediately that my spirit had left my body. I was enjoying the tranquility of the water when I sensed a warm presence approaching me.
My spirit hummed with energy when I saw him. A black hooded cloak covered his face in shadow, but even though I couldn’t see him, I feltdrawnto him. The feeling was so intense.
It was so…
Fake. It was fake.
I can’t stop thinking about it, but I keep having to remind myself that it was just a hallucination. It wasn’t real.
My doctor said that during stressful near-death experiences like the one I had, hallucinations are pretty common. The brain is flooded with all sorts of chemicals and visions. Dreams and hallucinations can feelveryreal.
“But itwasreal,” I told him. He spoke to me. I could remember being gripped by him. Even as I told the doctor about it, I got goosebumps all over.
“I’m afraid it wasn’t,” my doctor said. “There could also be memory issues from the coma and side effects from the drugs. The point is, I wouldn’t worry about it. You’re fine now. That’s all that matters.”
I wasn’t convinced then and I’m not convinced now.
It felt too real.
And it wasn’t just that.
During my stay in the hospital, I kept feeling the same masculine presence nearby, watching me, protecting me. It felt safe and comforting when it was there and lonely and sad when it wasn’t.
Doctor Jones would have said it was a side effect from the medication if I had told him about it, but I kept it to myself. I didn’t want anyone telling me that incredible feeling was a delusion. It was the only thing that kept me going.
Three people died in the car crash. I should have been number four. The doctors didn’t understand how I had survived with all of the blood I had lost. One of the EMTs even mistakenly thought I had died when he felt for my pulse and didn’t find one.
I’m lucky to be alive. That’s what everyone keeps telling me.
But, I don’t know. I’m not so sure. I can still remember how it felt to be dead, to be a spirit, to be engulfed by the possessive energy of that beautiful being and… I don’t know.This, right here. Thislife… It feels empty and sad compared to how it felt on that bridge.
A growing part of me wishes I could be back there. It wishes I could be back withhim.
I keep craving his presence.
“Are you there?” I whisper as I look around my empty apartment.
Silence.
