In the morning, when she first peaked out of her eyelids, she thought it would be a good day. When her eyes would only open a tiny bit wider, the heavy weight on her chest grew heavier and heavier and she remembered. Oh, yes. I’m in hell.
Without looking, without getting up, without trying to move at all, she recalled what had happened. Why she was here. Her wrists were sore from hours in restraints. Her veins felt tingly from the new medications coursing through her body. Her brain felt fuzzy and completely sharp at the same time. She felt like she could fight her way out of the room and the building. She didn’t move.
She closed her eyes. A car wreck. Broken ribs. Fractured jaw. Smashed knee. Swollen face. Everything hurt. She remembered the turn. The slick road. Checking her speed. The split decision to use the rain to slide off into the trees and creek. She thought she had been going fast enough. She thought she had been high enough. She thought she would hit a tree with enough force. But, she hadn’t. Being busted up from head to toe was bad enough, but the fact that she was still alive burned like fire.