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Description
By my calculations, a nervous breakdown definitely counts as an emergency. Why does no one else agree? They goad me in to the elevator as if it were a calm blue ocean on a warm summer day.

"Don't be fucking dumb, it's just an elevator."

Just an elevator? Try a death machine. Trapped inside, you could suffocate, plummet to your death at mind shattering speeds, or, in my case have your heart explode during a major panic attack. The cause of which probably has something to do with stopping my meds abruptly. I like to do that once in a while, just to make sure I'm still alive. Unfortunately, I think I still am.

KNOCK KNOCK! Anybody home? Yeah. Fuck.

So, back to the matter at hand. The dilemma I face on this particular night; do I exert my cardiovascular system and brave 30 flights of stairs, or do I conform to the goading of my so-called friends and step into the death machine and face certain-doom (as mentioned previously)?

"I can't believe we missed three elevators fucking waiting for you to make up your mind. That's it, I’m going without you...everyone already went up!"

I glare at my boyfriend's anger-ridden face. He could never understand me. Why am I even with him? Even better question, why am I here with him now? Do I even want to go up to the 30th floor of this foreign building and join a party of twenty and thirty somethings whom I've never met, nor do I wish to bear acquaintance to?

"Okay, go! Fucking asshole." I whip around on my heel so fast that his face turns into a blurred streak of red anger. Secretly I am hoping he will follow me, but I know he won't.

I slam through the double doors at the entryway to the building and start walking as fast as I can towards god knows where. Come to think of it, I hadn't really been paying attention in the car to where we had come. I stop abruptly, looking around, trying to find a familiar landmark or street sign or anything. Funny enough, there doesn't appear to be anything in this neighbourhood. The street goes on forever, so far down that I can barely see the twinkle of a stoplight up ahead. There are no cars driving through, and endless rows of high-rises on either side of the street seem to loom in the darkness of the dead night.

All is quiet and eerie. The few streetlights that are half-hazardously lining the side of the street on which I am standing are fizzling, only occasionally shedding dim light on the sidewalk below.

Am I insane? I think, as I stand there alone and cold, half-petrified and half-perturbed. Why does he do this to me? Why do I do this to myself? Jay was never the kind of guy I would normally go out with. He had all these, things, about him that just annoyed the fuck out of me. But I am weak. And I am feeble and I can't be alone. But I'm alone now aren't I?

For a split second I thought about turning back and running to him, aching for him to tell me it's okay and we'd leave together and go home. Then I thought better of it. I'm going to fucking get out of here and never look back. That is what I'm going to do. I'm not giving in again. Never again. I gave into Nick – and he left me, forever.

Now, I'm stuck though, because I don't know where I am. I pull out my cell phone and light up the face.

"Argh." I mumble in frustration. Of course, there's no service in this area in the middle of nowhere.

I start to walk towards that teeny glimmer of a stoplight that I can almost see. It seems to be getting colder as the seconds pass. I keep walking, only it’s almost like I’m walking on a treadmill. I keep passing more and more buildings, but the glimmer ahead isn’t getting any brighter. Nothing is coming into focus. I keep checking my cell phone for service. Tears streaming down my face, all I want to do is call a cab and get the fuck out of here.

I’m starting to lose my grip on reality. How can this be happening? Why did I even leave my house tonight? Where is my house from here? Do I have any money? What am I going to do once I reach that stupid glimmering stoplight?

WHOOSH!

I stop dead in my tracks as all the streetlights that were once flickering and fizzling out simultaneously shut off. Frantically I turn my head in every direction, but see nothing. My eyes are not adjusting. Why aren’t there any lights on in the windows of these fucking high-rises? I grab my cell phone and hit the key to light up the face, but nothing happens. I can feel my heart choking me as it beats harder and harder in my chest. What is going on?

My eyes still aren’t adjusting. It’s been a couple minutes since the loud whooshing sound and all the lights went out. I have to keep walking; I decide that is the best course of action. So, I start walking as fast as my legs will take me in what I believe to be the direction of the stoplight I was aiming for only a few minutes prior. I break into a light jog and in no time, my light jog evolves into a full force run. Still seemingly making no ground I keep running, entirely out of breath and fighting to stay upright. At this point I seem to be running through something wet. My old, beat up converse sneakers are slapping around in a warm liquid that seems to be all over the pavement below me. I start to feel the ground become uneven, by the time I realize my left foot is caught under a hard, jagged object that is jutting out of the ground, it is too late. My right foot propels forwards before my brain could force it to stop, and I am falling face first into a pool of this sticky warm liquid.

SMASH. My face hits the pavement, and I feel my nose and chin skid along the sticky, warm, wet pavement for what seems like at least six feet. My left foot throbs and feels like it’s bleeding. My foot had managed to free itself from whatever was jutting out from the sidewalk due to the force of my fall, however, in the process the rough edges of said object seem to have mangled it. I start to feel sleepy. This warm fluid on the ground enveloping me, and making me tired. I try desperately to lift my head up. But find myself completely immobilized.

“FUCK. Help me!” I scream. To whom I am screaming, I have no idea. I am still in complete darkness, and have no idea what this sticky fluid surrounding me is. I can’t see a goddamnned thing, and I am getting dizzier and sleepier by the second. I scrounge around for my purse that was hanging at my side before I had fallen. It too is covered in this sticky shit. I reach inside to grab my cell phone, but to my utter dismay, my fingers only graze over the remnants of what was a cell phone prior to it being crushed under the weight of my fall.

“HELP, please!”

My head hits the pavement, my last ounce of energy used to propel forward that last scream for aid. Images of swirling reds and blacks and oranges in kaleidoscopic measures float past my now closed eyes.

I’m sure hours have past by the time I finally come to. My eyes are crusted over, and they refuse to open. Every inch of my body hurts to the point of sheer agony. It must still be dark, because I can’t sense any light around me. I hear laughter in the distance. Are they laughing at me? What is this sticky, thick, still warm liquid I am laying in? I use my aching arms to push myself up into a sitting position. I feel more of the gooky stuff slither over my hands as I press down on the pavement.

“Hello? Who’s there?” I call out, as I hear the laughter getting closer to me. I can almost feel heavy footsteps trodding on the ground around me.

No one answers me. “Fucking answer me! Stop fucking laughing and answer me!” I shout, discouraged and desperate to peel my eyes open.

Despite the filth that is no doubt encrusted on my fingertips, I raise them to my face. I feel a mess of coagulated blood on my chin and nose where I had skidded on the ground. I raise my fingers up to my eyes and skim over them. My eyelids feel dry, and in both corners of each eye, a crusty substance glues my eyelids shut. I pick at it, and, surprisingly it comes off with little effort. I try again to open my eyes. This time, they crack open slightly. They are obviously swollen near shut. I turn my head to what I think is the sky. A cold wind howls around me, and large raindrops fall heavily on my face.

The rain begins to wash away the dirt on my face, and my eyes open further. There is an orange haze all around me. Daylight! It must be. My heart races with the hope of being able to see, and getting out of here. How long had I been laying there? The rain is getting harder, and louder. The laughter I had heard only seconds before is drown out by the thundering rain.

Slowly, my eyes open fully. To my horror, I find that it is still pitch black. The orange haze must have been a reaction to my eyes being crusted shut for so long. I painfully hoist myself up to my feet. My left shoe is soaked with blood from my wound. I start limping forwards. Again, the distant glimmer of a stoplight appears in full view. Again, my heart races.

As I walk on, streetlights begin to illuminate the way behind me, each making a sharp clack noise as they flip on. Their dim light doesn’t lend much aid however, it only returns me to the initial nightmare of this night. Endless blocks of high-rise buildings, looming in darkness and shutting me inside this hell. After I had walked for a good five minutes, I turned around to try and get a glimpse of what had caused my fall.

“What? What the fuck,” my mouth hanging open, I gape in disgust at the fact the streetlights show only slightly damp grey sidewalk for as far as the eye can see. How can this be? I look down at my foot. It is unmistakably gashed and still bleeding. My clothes are filthy. This is not happening. Am I so crazy that I could be imagining all this? Is this a dream?

My mind is racing. I turn to face forward and keep walking towards the intersection, that by some miracle is becoming clearer with each step that I take. The rain stops as quickly as it has begun. In the dim light I can see a shadow of someone moving in the distance. I walk faster, as fast as my injured foot can go anyway.

“Hey! Over here! Do you have a phone?” I called to shadow.

The shadow stops moving. So I start to jog towards it. “Hello? Can you help me? Please? Please help me!” my cries becoming more desperate with each syllable that I utter. I want to go home. The shadow moves ever so slightly, and from behind a streetlight post emerges a tall lanky body. I’m still too far away to see it clearly. My eyes burn from the dirt and crust in them. I start waving frantically, but the figure does not respond.

As I get closer, the figure stretches out its hand. The hand looks familiar, its creamy white skin scattered with coarse black hairs on the back of it. The sight of it made a rush of warmth flood over me, despite the fact that I was dirty and soaking wet. Everything was still quite blurry. The had reaches for me. It grabs a hold of my forearm and pulls me close to its body. I know this body. It feels so familiar to be held by this (what I could now clearly assume was a) man. He wipes a tissue over my eyes, and says in a soothing low tone, “Look at me Josephine.”

I raised my eyes up to his face. He stood at about 6 foot 2, at least 8 inches higher than I did. I strain my neck looking at him. “Jesus!” I exclaim as his face comes into clear focus.

“No, not quite, but close!” A smile spreads over his face as he strokes my dirty hair. He picks small stones and dead leaves out of the length of it as he continues stroking.

“Nick?” I say questioningly. Taken aback by my disbelief, I squirm away from him to get a better look at his whole body. He was dressed just as I remember he always did, long sleeved scratchy black sweater, fitted perfectly, both sleeves rolled up to reveal skinny yet strong forearms. His faded black jeans hung flawlessly of his bony hips, the small hole just above the knee looked slightly bigger than I remember. Size 12 combat boots, scuffed at the heels and the steel toes, covered his feet. I put a hand on each of his hips and leaned back, as if to verify this was real.

“I’ve come to take you home Josephine.”

“What the fuck are you talking about home? I don’t even know where the fuck I am. This can’t be real. You’re not fucking here. How could you be? Was it you laughing when I was lying down over there…” my voice trailed off as I pointed off into the distance to where I thought I had come from. But when I looked in the direction of my pointing finger all I saw was my own townhouse complex. The block I had lived on for the last 5 years.

“…How did I get here? I wasn’t here before! I swear! Nick? ANSWER ME!” I screamed at him, and he seemed unfazed. He pulled me close to him again. He patted my head.

“Let’s go inside. I’ll make you some tea. You should have a bath.”

“Inside? You, what, wait! Where did you come from? Why am I here? You’re DEAD! You can’t be here! You died. Am I dead too? Where’s Jay?” I was becoming frantic again. Seeing Nick, my first love and only true love I suppose, had at first brought me feelings of warmth and joy. But now, this is just insane. Where are all the high-rises and the endless damp pavement and Jay and the elevator and his car? What is going on?

“Dead, Josephine I am not dead. We are both very much alive. That,” he points to my townhouse, “is where we live, and that,” he points to the beat up black Volkswagen Jetta in the driveway, “is our car, and that,” he points to the clay fountain on the front lawn, “is your most recent piece of artwork, and this,” he points to my face, “is you. You are tired. You are worn out. You need some tea and a bath and maybe some of that jasmine oil you always rave about.” He kisses my forehead. I look into his soulful black eyes. Could this be true? How, what? Did my life rewind itself to before the accident.

I stare in bewilderment for a long time at the black car in my driveway. I close my eyes tightly, in a painful flash of light I see the whole thing play itself out like a bad movie.

That same black car is careening out of control and spinning in donuts on wet pavement on the freeway. It comes to an abrupt halt as it smashes violently into the guardrail. The body of the driver flies through the windshield on to the opposing lanes of the freeway. A young girl emerges from the wreckage and watches in horror as a tractor-trailer slams on its brakes and tries to avoid hitting the limp body of the accident victim. “NICK! NO!” screams the girl, but it is too late. The truck skids and slides and ends up driving over the body. The girl falls to her knees screaming.

“The car, the truck, you…” Nick was looking at me quite suspiciously.

“Honey, I thought you promised you weren’t going to drop acid hits anymore. Especially now that you’re on that new medication.” he grabbed my hand as if to lead me into the house. I pull it away furiously.

“Acid hits? I didn’t do any fucking acid. This is not real. You died. I watched you die.” This time he grabbed my hand more forcefully.

“Do you want me to be dead?” he asks, in a much less soothing voice than when he first spoke to me earlier. “And, who is this Jay character? Your drug dealer?”

He pulled me across the sidewalk, up the driveway and into the small townhouse. I follow somewhat reluctantly. My head is spinning, my foot is throbbing, I can’t even begin to comprehend this situation. I didn’t do any drugs, did I?

“No,” I respond quietly. “NO!” I then yell with all the force I can muster. “I don’t want you to be dead. Nick. This is real? I’m real? You…” I’m in shock, I am almost sure of it.

He pulls me into the house and sits me down at the kitchen table. I hear him walk into the other room. I hear the blips of our ancient cordless phone. He is talking quietly. I get off my chair and walk closer to the entryway and strain to hear.

“Yes, I think she’s had another episode doctor. I found her walking the streets. Uh huh. Yep. Well she seems to think I’m dead. Uh huh. Yeah, I dunno. I’ll ask her that.” There is a long pause. “Okay, I’ll get her cleaned up and bring her in.” I hear him put the phone down. I quickly get back in the chair.

“Jo, we’re going to go to see Doctor Marlens. She thinks she may to need to alter your meds. You are sure you didn’t take any drugs. I want to believe you. Swear to me?” He put both hands on my shoulders and looked into my eyes so deeply I felt my hear swoon. What was happening to me? Why did I think he was dead?

“Oh Nick!” I throw my arms around him and hug him tightly “I’m sorry!” I start to weep, tears exploding from my eyes. “I’m sorry, sorry sorry sorry.” I repeat over and over again. He holds me tightly. I think I see a tear well up in one of his eyes. Why does he let me put him through this? “Are you going to leave me?” I gasp through my sobs.

“Never. I will never leave you.” A tear rolls down his cheek. He leads me upstairs and into the bathroom. He turns on the shower. Then he turns to me; he gently starts to undress me. He then undresses himself and lifts me up in his arms. He takes us both into the shower. I stand helplessly and he washes every part of my body. He scrubs my dirty hands, gingerly cleanses my injured foot, and shampoos my hair. His big hands make me feel so secure as he runs them along my body, making me clean.

After we get out of the shower we go into the bedroom and dress.

“Doctor Marlens is waiting.” He says to me with a smile as he laces up his boots.

“Okay. Let’s go. I’m sorry Nick. Really, I…” he puts his finger to my lips.

“Shhhh. You’re here with me, and we’re going to make you better. I promise we’ll be together forever. Forever.” he whispers in my ear as he leads me downstairs.

He grabs the keys off the table. As we walk out the door it starts to rain. We dash to our beat-up old car. I sit in the passenger seat, slam the door and fasten my seat belt. I smile as I reassure myself I must have had a bad acid trip or something. I was starting to feel almost normal as Nick drove us along the city streets. My head is pounding though. I’m secretly hoping Doctor Marlens gives me some good vicodin or something. After all, I did fall on my face! I chuckle to myself.

“What?” Nick says as he momentarily takes his eyes off the road to smile at me.

“Just laughing at myself.” I say.

Then, a sharp pain arises in my stomach. Nick is turning the car onto the on-ramp to the freeway that leads into town. I buckle over in pain.

“Hun? You okay?” Nick says in a worried tone…but it’s too late. Just then, I feel the car slipping on the wet pavement… Nick is losing control…we spin and spin and spin…

CRASH.

Description
By my calculations, a nervous breakdown definitely counts as an emergency. Why does no one else agree? They goad me in to the elevator as if it were a calm blue ocean on a warm summer day.

"Don't be fucking dumb, it's just an elevator."

Just an elevator? Try a death machine. Trapped inside, you could suffocate, plummet to your death at mind shattering speeds, or, in my case have your heart explode during a major panic attack. The cause of which probably has something to do with stopping my meds abruptly. I like to do that once in a while, just to make sure I'm still alive. Unfortunately, I think I still am.

KNOCK KNOCK! Anybody home? Yeah. Fuck.

So, back to the matter at hand. The dilemma I face on this particular night; do I exert my cardiovascular system and brave 30 flights of stairs, or do I conform to the goading of my so-called friends and step into the death machine and face certain-doom (as mentioned previously)?

"I can't believe we missed three elevators fucking waiting for you to make up your mind. That's it, I’m going without you...everyone already went up!"

I glare at my boyfriend's anger-ridden face. He could never understand me. Why am I even with him? Even better question, why am I here with him now? Do I even want to go up to the 30th floor of this foreign building and join a party of twenty and thirty somethings whom I've never met, nor do I wish to bear acquaintance to?

"Okay, go! Fucking asshole." I whip around on my heel so fast that his face turns into a blurred streak of red anger. Secretly I am hoping he will follow me, but I know he won't.

I slam through the double doors at the entryway to the building and start walking as fast as I can towards god knows where. Come to think of it, I hadn't really been paying attention in the car to where we had come. I stop abruptly, looking around, trying to find a familiar landmark or street sign or anything. Funny enough, there doesn't appear to be anything in this neighbourhood. The street goes on forever, so far down that I can barely see the twinkle of a stoplight up ahead. There are no cars driving through, and endless rows of high-rises on either side of the street seem to loom in the darkness of the dead night.

All is quiet and eerie. The few streetlights that are half-hazardously lining the side of the street on which I am standing are fizzling, only occasionally shedding dim light on the sidewalk below.

Am I insane? I think, as I stand there alone and cold, half-petrified and half-perturbed. Why does he do this to me? Why do I do this to myself? Jay was never the kind of guy I would normally go out with. He had all these, things, about him that just annoyed the fuck out of me. But I am weak. And I am feeble and I can't be alone. But I'm alone now aren't I?

For a split second I thought about turning back and running to him, aching for him to tell me it's okay and we'd leave together and go home. Then I thought better of it. I'm going to fucking get out of here and never look back. That is what I'm going to do. I'm not giving in again. Never again. I gave into Nick – and he left me, forever.

Now, I'm stuck though, because I don't know where I am. I pull out my cell phone and light up the face.

"Argh." I mumble in frustration. Of course, there's no service in this area in the middle of nowhere.

I start to walk towards that teeny glimmer of a stoplight that I can almost see. It seems to be getting colder as the seconds pass. I keep walking, only it’s almost like I’m walking on a treadmill. I keep passing more and more buildings, but the glimmer ahead isn’t getting any brighter. Nothing is coming into focus. I keep checking my cell phone for service. Tears streaming down my face, all I want to do is call a cab and get the fuck out of here.

I’m starting to lose my grip on reality. How can this be happening? Why did I even leave my house tonight? Where is my house from here? Do I have any money? What am I going to do once I reach that stupid glimmering stoplight?

WHOOSH!

I stop dead in my tracks as all the streetlights that were once flickering and fizzling out simultaneously shut off. Frantically I turn my head in every direction, but see nothing. My eyes are not adjusting. Why aren’t there any lights on in the windows of these fucking high-rises? I grab my cell phone and hit the key to light up the face, but nothing happens. I can feel my heart choking me as it beats harder and harder in my chest. What is going on?

My eyes still aren’t adjusting. It’s been a couple minutes since the loud whooshing sound and all the lights went out. I have to keep walking; I decide that is the best course of action. So, I start walking as fast as my legs will take me in what I believe to be the direction of the stoplight I was aiming for only a few minutes prior. I break into a light jog and in no time, my light jog evolves into a full force run. Still seemingly making no ground I keep running, entirely out of breath and fighting to stay upright. At this point I seem to be running through something wet. My old, beat up converse sneakers are slapping around in a warm liquid that seems to be all over the pavement below me. I start to feel the ground become uneven, by the time I realize my left foot is caught under a hard, jagged object that is jutting out of the ground, it is too late. My right foot propels forwards before my brain could force it to stop, and I am falling face first into a pool of this sticky warm liquid.

SMASH. My face hits the pavement, and I feel my nose and chin skid along the sticky, warm, wet pavement for what seems like at least six feet. My left foot throbs and feels like it’s bleeding. My foot had managed to free itself from whatever was jutting out from the sidewalk due to the force of my fall, however, in the process the rough edges of said object seem to have mangled it. I start to feel sleepy. This warm fluid on the ground enveloping me, and making me tired. I try desperately to lift my head up. But find myself completely immobilized.

“FUCK. Help me!” I scream. To whom I am screaming, I have no idea. I am still in complete darkness, and have no idea what this sticky fluid surrounding me is. I can’t see a goddamnned thing, and I am getting dizzier and sleepier by the second. I scrounge around for my purse that was hanging at my side before I had fallen. It too is covered in this sticky shit. I reach inside to grab my cell phone, but to my utter dismay, my fingers only graze over the remnants of what was a cell phone prior to it being crushed under the weight of my fall.

“HELP, please!”

My head hits the pavement, my last ounce of energy used to propel forward that last scream for aid. Images of swirling reds and blacks and oranges in kaleidoscopic measures float past my now closed eyes.

I’m sure hours have past by the time I finally come to. My eyes are crusted over, and they refuse to open. Every inch of my body hurts to the point of sheer agony. It must still be dark, because I can’t sense any light around me. I hear laughter in the distance. Are they laughing at me? What is this sticky, thick, still warm liquid I am laying in? I use my aching arms to push myself up into a sitting position. I feel more of the gooky stuff slither over my hands as I press down on the pavement.

“Hello? Who’s there?” I call out, as I hear the laughter getting closer to me. I can almost feel heavy footsteps trodding on the ground around me.

No one answers me. “Fucking answer me! Stop fucking laughing and answer me!” I shout, discouraged and desperate to peel my eyes open.

Despite the filth that is no doubt encrusted on my fingertips, I raise them to my face. I feel a mess of coagulated blood on my chin and nose where I had skidded on the ground. I raise my fingers up to my eyes and skim over them. My eyelids feel dry, and in both corners of each eye, a crusty substance glues my eyelids shut. I pick at it, and, surprisingly it comes off with little effort. I try again to open my eyes. This time, they crack open slightly. They are obviously swollen near shut. I turn my head to what I think is the sky. A cold wind howls around me, and large raindrops fall heavily on my face.

The rain begins to wash away the dirt on my face, and my eyes open further. There is an orange haze all around me. Daylight! It must be. My heart races with the hope of being able to see, and getting out of here. How long had I been laying there? The rain is getting harder, and louder. The laughter I had heard only seconds before is drown out by the thundering rain.

Slowly, my eyes open fully. To my horror, I find that it is still pitch black. The orange haze must have been a reaction to my eyes being crusted shut for so long. I painfully hoist myself up to my feet. My left shoe is soaked with blood from my wound. I start limping forwards. Again, the distant glimmer of a stoplight appears in full view. Again, my heart races.

As I walk on, streetlights begin to illuminate the way behind me, each making a sharp clack noise as they flip on. Their dim light doesn’t lend much aid however, it only returns me to the initial nightmare of this night. Endless blocks of high-rise buildings, looming in darkness and shutting me inside this hell. After I had walked for a good five minutes, I turned around to try and get a glimpse of what had caused my fall.

“What? What the fuck,” my mouth hanging open, I gape in disgust at the fact the streetlights show only slightly damp grey sidewalk for as far as the eye can see. How can this be? I look down at my foot. It is unmistakably gashed and still bleeding. My clothes are filthy. This is not happening. Am I so crazy that I could be imagining all this? Is this a dream?

My mind is racing. I turn to face forward and keep walking towards the intersection, that by some miracle is becoming clearer with each step that I take. The rain stops as quickly as it has begun. In the dim light I can see a shadow of someone moving in the distance. I walk faster, as fast as my injured foot can go anyway.

“Hey! Over here! Do you have a phone?” I called to shadow.

The shadow stops moving. So I start to jog towards it. “Hello? Can you help me? Please? Please help me!” my cries becoming more desperate with each syllable that I utter. I want to go home. The shadow moves ever so slightly, and from behind a streetlight post emerges a tall lanky body. I’m still too far away to see it clearly. My eyes burn from the dirt and crust in them. I start waving frantically, but the figure does not respond.

As I get closer, the figure stretches out its hand. The hand looks familiar, its creamy white skin scattered with coarse black hairs on the back of it. The sight of it made a rush of warmth flood over me, despite the fact that I was dirty and soaking wet. Everything was still quite blurry. The had reaches for me. It grabs a hold of my forearm and pulls me close to its body. I know this body. It feels so familiar to be held by this (what I could now clearly assume was a) man. He wipes a tissue over my eyes, and says in a soothing low tone, “Look at me Josephine.”

I raised my eyes up to his face. He stood at about 6 foot 2, at least 8 inches higher than I did. I strain my neck looking at him. “Jesus!” I exclaim as his face comes into clear focus.

“No, not quite, but close!” A smile spreads over his face as he strokes my dirty hair. He picks small stones and dead leaves out of the length of it as he continues stroking.

“Nick?” I say questioningly. Taken aback by my disbelief, I squirm away from him to get a better look at his whole body. He was dressed just as I remember he always did, long sleeved scratchy black sweater, fitted perfectly, both sleeves rolled up to reveal skinny yet strong forearms. His faded black jeans hung flawlessly of his bony hips, the small hole just above the knee looked slightly bigger than I remember. Size 12 combat boots, scuffed at the heels and the steel toes, covered his feet. I put a hand on each of his hips and leaned back, as if to verify this was real.

“I’ve come to take you home Josephine.”

“What the fuck are you talking about home? I don’t even know where the fuck I am. This can’t be real. You’re not fucking here. How could you be? Was it you laughing when I was lying down over there…” my voice trailed off as I pointed off into the distance to where I thought I had come from. But when I looked in the direction of my pointing finger all I saw was my own townhouse complex. The block I had lived on for the last 5 years.

“…How did I get here? I wasn’t here before! I swear! Nick? ANSWER ME!” I screamed at him, and he seemed unfazed. He pulled me close to him again. He patted my head.

“Let’s go inside. I’ll make you some tea. You should have a bath.”

“Inside? You, what, wait! Where did you come from? Why am I here? You’re DEAD! You can’t be here! You died. Am I dead too? Where’s Jay?” I was becoming frantic again. Seeing Nick, my first love and only true love I suppose, had at first brought me feelings of warmth and joy. But now, this is just insane. Where are all the high-rises and the endless damp pavement and Jay and the elevator and his car? What is going on?

“Dead, Josephine I am not dead. We are both very much alive. That,” he points to my townhouse, “is where we live, and that,” he points to the beat up black Volkswagen Jetta in the driveway, “is our car, and that,” he points to the clay fountain on the front lawn, “is your most recent piece of artwork, and this,” he points to my face, “is you. You are tired. You are worn out. You need some tea and a bath and maybe some of that jasmine oil you always rave about.” He kisses my forehead. I look into his soulful black eyes. Could this be true? How, what? Did my life rewind itself to before the accident.

I stare in bewilderment for a long time at the black car in my driveway. I close my eyes tightly, in a painful flash of light I see the whole thing play itself out like a bad movie.

That same black car is careening out of control and spinning in donuts on wet pavement on the freeway. It comes to an abrupt halt as it smashes violently into the guardrail. The body of the driver flies through the windshield on to the opposing lanes of the freeway. A young girl emerges from the wreckage and watches in horror as a tractor-trailer slams on its brakes and tries to avoid hitting the limp body of the accident victim. “NICK! NO!” screams the girl, but it is too late. The truck skids and slides and ends up driving over the body. The girl falls to her knees screaming.

“The car, the truck, you…” Nick was looking at me quite suspiciously.

“Honey, I thought you promised you weren’t going to drop acid hits anymore. Especially now that you’re on that new medication.” he grabbed my hand as if to lead me into the house. I pull it away furiously.

“Acid hits? I didn’t do any fucking acid. This is not real. You died. I watched you die.” This time he grabbed my hand more forcefully.

“Do you want me to be dead?” he asks, in a much less soothing voice than when he first spoke to me earlier. “And, who is this Jay character? Your drug dealer?”

He pulled me across the sidewalk, up the driveway and into the small townhouse. I follow somewhat reluctantly. My head is spinning, my foot is throbbing, I can’t even begin to comprehend this situation. I didn’t do any drugs, did I?

“No,” I respond quietly. “NO!” I then yell with all the force I can muster. “I don’t want you to be dead. Nick. This is real? I’m real? You…” I’m in shock, I am almost sure of it.

He pulls me into the house and sits me down at the kitchen table. I hear him walk into the other room. I hear the blips of our ancient cordless phone. He is talking quietly. I get off my chair and walk closer to the entryway and strain to hear.

“Yes, I think she’s had another episode doctor. I found her walking the streets. Uh huh. Yep. Well she seems to think I’m dead. Uh huh. Yeah, I dunno. I’ll ask her that.” There is a long pause. “Okay, I’ll get her cleaned up and bring her in.” I hear him put the phone down. I quickly get back in the chair.

“Jo, we’re going to go to see Doctor Marlens. She thinks she may to need to alter your meds. You are sure you didn’t take any drugs. I want to believe you. Swear to me?” He put both hands on my shoulders and looked into my eyes so deeply I felt my hear swoon. What was happening to me? Why did I think he was dead?

“Oh Nick!” I throw my arms around him and hug him tightly “I’m sorry!” I start to weep, tears exploding from my eyes. “I’m sorry, sorry sorry sorry.” I repeat over and over again. He holds me tightly. I think I see a tear well up in one of his eyes. Why does he let me put him through this? “Are you going to leave me?” I gasp through my sobs.

“Never. I will never leave you.” A tear rolls down his cheek. He leads me upstairs and into the bathroom. He turns on the shower. Then he turns to me; he gently starts to undress me. He then undresses himself and lifts me up in his arms. He takes us both into the shower. I stand helplessly and he washes every part of my body. He scrubs my dirty hands, gingerly cleanses my injured foot, and shampoos my hair. His big hands make me feel so secure as he runs them along my body, making me clean.

After we get out of the shower we go into the bedroom and dress.

“Doctor Marlens is waiting.” He says to me with a smile as he laces up his boots.

“Okay. Let’s go. I’m sorry Nick. Really, I…” he puts his finger to my lips.

“Shhhh. You’re here with me, and we’re going to make you better. I promise we’ll be together forever. Forever.” he whispers in my ear as he leads me downstairs.

He grabs the keys off the table. As we walk out the door it starts to rain. We dash to our beat-up old car. I sit in the passenger seat, slam the door and fasten my seat belt. I smile as I reassure myself I must have had a bad acid trip or something. I was starting to feel almost normal as Nick drove us along the city streets. My head is pounding though. I’m secretly hoping Doctor Marlens gives me some good vicodin or something. After all, I did fall on my face! I chuckle to myself.

“What?” Nick says as he momentarily takes his eyes off the road to smile at me.

“Just laughing at myself.” I say.

Then, a sharp pain arises in my stomach. Nick is turning the car onto the on-ramp to the freeway that leads into town. I buckle over in pain.

“Hun? You okay?” Nick says in a worried tone…but it’s too late. Just then, I feel the car slipping on the wet pavement… Nick is losing control…we spin and spin and spin…

CRASH.