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JULIET
The windshield is fogging up with the rain, making it almost impossible to see. I don’t know the controls well enough to fix it. I reach up and wipe the windshield with my hand, squinting as the headlights from opposing traffic slash across my line of vision. Then I wipe at my own eyes and realize I’m still crying.
Sobbing is more like it.
This was a mistake.
I swallow. Right now, I want nothing more than to sink into bed. Or the couch at Mara’s. That’s what I should’ve done: Gone to sleep and put this whole horrible day behind me.
I let out a relieved breath when I spy the arrow for the next exit. Throwing on my blinker, I wrap both hands tightly around the wheel and pray that the sedan will pass me.
At first, I think they will. The car draws level, but at the last second, they swerve—directly into me!
There’s a jolt of impact, and then the Porsche spins out of control.
Panic flashes through me, lightning fast, and I grip the wheel in terror, trying to stop the car from the wild fishtail it’s been launched into. I swerve to the right, than the left, and then I see headlights closing in on me.
I scream.
There’s another sick crunch of impact, then I go spinning, weightless. Airborne.
When the car hits the ground, it’s with a terrific, sickening crash, the crunch of metal. Thrown forward like a rag doll, the steering wheel rises up to meet me with such force that I can’t do anything to stop it. I hear the squeal of tires, feel the crunch and spray of glass shattering around me, and close my eyes.
And then everything goes black.
When I forcemy eyelids open, nothing has changed.
Everything’s still dark. There is no sound, only echoes from above, as if I’m swimming deep underwater.
Oh, but something is different.
There is pain. It comes to me, not all at once, but in pieces. An ache in my neck. Then in my temples, as I try to move.
Try. But I can’t.
I panic. I need to get out of here. I will my legs to move. But it’s like my brain is no longer connected to those parts of my body. I think I’m trapped. But I can’t feel anything. My legs are numb.
Or are they even attached to my body anymore?
I can’t tell.
Oh God.
Biting back fear, I try to reach down and touch them, and that’s when the pain really starts to get serious. In my chest. Razor-sharp pain shoots up my spine, enough to make me cry out.
But nobody hears me. Or if they do, they don’t care.
I blink, trying to focus on something, anything in the darkness. The first thing I see is a dim headlight, in the periphery of my vision, illuminating a brown patch of earth that seems to be floating in midair.
I notice it at a distance, groggy. How weird. The ground is in the sky.
I can’t stop staring at it, wondering why it’s there.
With huge effort, I manage to bring my chin down to my chest and feel a seatbelt, cutting into my collarbone.
Then I realize the reason why it was so hard to move that way. Gravity.
I wasn’t bringing my chin down. I was lifting it up.
