Sometimes It’s Better To Be Dead

Some lines are not meant to be crossed.

Sometimes, you’re better off dead.

It all started one day… I was carpooling to work with my friend Samantha (I call her Sammy) and we took a detour. She said it was because of a construction zone ahead, and I didn’t question her. She always checked the route before she left, seeing how to get there fastest. Me? I learn a route once, I go that exact way every time after that.

But anyways, we were going to work, like usual. Then I noticed an utter lack of other cars on the road. Now, it was early, so I could get only a few people rushing to get to work, or get a head start on the day… But this road was empty save for us. And it was dead silent, I could barely hear the engine of the car and unlike usual, the radio was off. When I glanced at Sammy, she was staring at the road, eyes glassy.

“Sammy?” I called her.

“Hey, Sammy!” my voice raised as I tried and failed to gain her attention.

Then something happened. It was all at once, we were going smoothly then…

CRASH!

I felt time go in slow-motion as the door buckled in next to me, my mind racing as the whole side of the car caved in on me. I didn’t have any time to process this, of course, because we were then tumbling through the air. In a moment of fear, I looked over at Sammy only to discover an intense bleeding from the side of her head, and a large crack in the window where she smashed it.

I remember hearing Sammy’s voice, crystal clear in my ears. “I don’t want to die,” she said. I remembered when she was in the hospital once, for something that turned out fine, but when she was at her worst, I was the only one there while we waited for her to wake up. When she did, she pulled me close and whispered “I don’t want to die,” in my ears. Miraculously, she recovered after that. This was one week afterwards.

When I opened my eyes again, the car was upside down. Or maybe I was. I’m not sure, but my neck hurt, my head was pressed hard against something that sure felt like the roof of the car, and I could definitely feel the blood pooled in my skull for God knows how long, making me feel light headed. I tried to find Sammy, but all I found was a smashed window and a door that could have been opened manually or broken open by the shock of the crash.

Instead of dwelling on that, I worked to undo my seatbelt. I then realized how much it was holding me up as I crashed onto the roof, shards of glass embedding themselves into my skin as I scrambled to sit up. I felt a trickle of warm liquid dripped down my arm, but I ignored it and tried to get to the other door. It was then that I realized I couldn’t feel my leg.

And why I couldn’t feel my leg. I looked down, my stomach turning at the sight. “Oh, god,” I felt the words slip out of my lips as I took it all in. Several large pieces of glass and shrapnel were stuck in my thigh, and it was pinned so tight between the door and the rest of the car that the lower half of my leg was purple. Blood dripped slowly down the shattered window and into a large puddle on the ground outside as I took in the scene, shock and horror printed on my face.

I was terrified to move any more, but my head was getting cloudier by the minute and I knew nobody was around to help me. Didn’t stop me from shouting, though…

“SOMEONE HELP! ANYONE, PLEASE!” my voice rang out, making my ears ring. “Please… I don’t want to die…

As I uttered those words, I heard Sammy cry out. And then… Nothing. I blacked out.

When I woke up, I was laying in a hospital bed. My sister, mother, and a few of my colleagues were sitting beside me, asleep, waiting for me to wake up. But the shock of what had happened made me not realize what was going on.

Sometimes, you’re better off dead.

My hands moved without me telling them to, gently nudging my sister who had fallen asleep with her head on the bed next to me. She awoke slowly, her eyes lighting up when she saw me awake. Quickly, everyone was awoken and huddled around me.

But my voice was not my own anymore. I spoke words that felt wrong on my tongue, and every time I moved it hurt. It went this way for… I’m not sure how long. Nobody noticed, not even my sister, and I never found out what happened to Sammy. And of course, I couldn’t just ask…

But a week after I got out of the hospital, I took my car to my friend Carol’s house to carpool to work. I told her there was roadwork, so we took a detour. I told her I checked the route, so we could take the fastest way.

All the while the real me was screaming, I DON’T WANT TO DIE.

But I’m always dying.

We’re always dying.

I don’t want to die.

But sometimes… Sometimes you’re better off dead.

Sometimes…

CRASH!