How We Got Here

How We Got Here

            I looked at the scene, at the mess, that pressed on around me. Everything was happening fast, too fast. It was loud, too loud. The sirens, the yelling, the crying, the confusion all blended into one unpleasant sound that marked a disaster. It was like the way a finish line marked a victory, but this was no victory. This was an accident that had been building up since day one; it was a volcano that had finally erupted.

            This was one of those catastrophes that you knew was going to happen. You know the kind where you can just feel it in your stomach, the kind that festers there and you can’t get rid of it no matter how hard you try. I pretended it wasn’t there, that it didn’t exist, because I didn’t believe it myself. I wish I had listened or told someone else, but I simply felt I was being ridiculous. That now seems like a distant regret, even if it was only earlier today.

            In every direction I looked there seemed to be an ambulance or a police car. The whole area could be described as devastation. Blood here and there, on me, on my friends as well. I wish I could undo the things that lead to this, the mistakes. There were a million things I longed to edit that would change how this would have played out. I obsessed over this as they looked me over.

            They loaded me into an ambulance and hurried in the direction of the hospital. The ambulance guy was nice and tried his best to comfort me when I became hysterical. He would calm me down for a minute but soon me worries would flood back and it became a tiring process for the both of us. 

            They ended up giving me something to calm me down once I was in my hospital room and I found myself to be tired. I knew I should be worried but I just felt relaxed and struggled not to fall asleep.