It was the morning of a wedding. Thankfully, it wasn’t mine, but rather some obscure relation I was barely acquainted with. Sitting alone, detached from the congregation, I randomly perused the hymnal, while the preacher painstakingly prepared to deliver his propaganda. There were candles on the altar, tall and ivory white. I smelled them burning and subconsciously recognised the odour. It was somewhat synthetic - almost like burning rubber...
I swerved to avoid the bystander and lost control, the wheels of the sedan screamed, spinning toward the edge of the bridge. There was a moment of unexpected serenity as we hung in the air, beginning to fall, then came the inevitably freezing, brackish water beneath. Gripping the steering wheel in terror I turned to see her face for an instant, before plunging in...
The congregation was standing now. Scrambling to my feet, I realized I had once again experienced a flashback. I recalled how the doctor had speculated that they would be a common occurrence in extreme trauma patients, like me. I gazed at the stained glass window, whose figures almost appeared to weep as the gentle rain splattered down their faces, cold and ominous...
We were submerged. Fighting at the seatbelts as terror, bubbles and blood clouded the water inside the cabin. With a lethargic swing I struck at the window and it gave way, inviting freedom to extend its irresistible hand. I swam free, but hesitated and then turned back to look at her, my love, my reason for living. Her flowing hair parted and I gazed upon her flawless visage. There was fear in her ice-blue eyes as she struggled to open the passenger door, but in vain...
The groom’s face was ablaze with adoration as the bride walked down the aisle, tentative; just as culture demands. It was a routine perfected over weeks. His hand extended and clasped hers as her long, flowing dress trailed behind her. I felt slightly revolted. Since the accident I hadn’t been exposed to such extreme happiness, for the hellish hallucinations were so vivid it was like enduring the experience again each time, yet being aware of the inevitable, tragic ending. Even the thought alone made me feel a wave of nauseating regret. I had become lethargic from the questions circling my mind. ‘Why us?’ ‘Why did I survive?’ In that next moment, a photographer stepped forward, twisted his focus bezel and snapped a shot. The bright xenon flash engulfed me...
The overwhelming, white light of the operating theatre blinded me as I drifted in and out of consciousness. The hallowed faces of the surgeons peered down at me from behind masks and spectacles, judging me. Darkness... Now I was being wheeled around on my bed, the intravenous intoxicating me with chemicals to keep my heart pumping when it only wished to cease...
Voices were chatting excitedly now as the newlyweds departed in their comically clichéd car with ‘just married’ sprawled on the rear. But that went almost unnoticed. Something was still haunting me: a question lingered indeterminately in the back of my mind, indelibly implanted in my subconscious, no matter how many pills I swallowed. ‘Why had I given up on her?’
...Descending rapidly into the black waters of death, I resisted the allure of the air above. She was almost free of the belt, but my lungs were burning and blood was still leaking from my near-fatal wound. Panic permeated every joint and sinew of my body. Suddenly, she was still... I was unsure what to do. I weighed up my options in the sub aquatic aurora as the car sunk deeper still. Our lives had been utterly perfect until this moment. It had seemed too good to be true and now that I knew it was, I was struck by the surrealism of the situation.
Somehow, in that instant, I knew there could be no God.
Then, in an inhumane act of selfishness, I turned away to face the surface
and let go...
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