180 Degree Turnaround

From a 45 to a 90 to a 180 degree turnaround. In reality, 2.5 seconds, while in our minds a lifetime of regrets, happiness, and momentary idleness. It was only for fun. It was just out of relaxation and good company. There was no intention of harm, but that's hard to qualify when all you hear is the sound of glass collapsing and metal conforming to the weight of pressure bearing down upon it's very frame. All you hear in the darkness as you watch the headlights roll is the frantic gasping of air as if their last breaths are taken. In that frame of time, that oh so short frame of time, you hear their plea through their breath, and through mine. You hear the noise of hands slapping the roof...trying to brace. Black paint chips away and the dust settles in your eyes. We were all at home, through home, and our souls were at rest, until the chaos came. Reaching for each other in the dark, calling out our names, while the radio still blasted, but we didn't hear it. Song #2 on the new cd...now forever cursed with the idea of mortality. It WAS my fault. Reaching out to feel their warm hands, to feel their hearts beat, and if I couldn't feel them I could hear them. Two in the back, one in the front...all you hear is the breathing...and then the escape. For a split second your mind wanders to the gas tank...your mind wanders to the ignition, and your mind wanders to the engulfing flames. Almost like you expect them to be there. You've seen too many movies, but luckily they stayed asleep. Then you hear the sound of buckles releasing and when the "wah, wah" pulsating leaves your head, you hear the radio again, and immediately turn it off. You hear the clear voices of those that you love calling out your name...asking if your alright. You hear the sound of sunglasses and cd's hitting the roof, and then you hear their backs raking against the broken glass to freedom. Soon...very soon, you hear nothing. You hear the resigned sound of life continuing to fill your de-oxygenated veins. You reach for the pack of cigarettes to help you make some sense out of what just happened. You look at the physical specimen of something so far-fetched, lying helpless in the middle of an open field. And then you exhale. You smile that you can still stand, and you smile bigger that they can too. Then you collapse to your knees, you cry and you ask them for their forgiveness. You look to the sky and ask Him for forgiveness and send a multitude of thanks for staying His wrath upon you, and for letting you watch another sunrise. You remember that they're with you in blood and you remember the blood has reached the boiling point. You embrace their hand...taking their words in like newfound courage...the most important words you've heard to this point in your life. You fall to the ground, and lose your stomach all over the field. You feel grateful to have that reaction...as morbid as it is, it makes you feel alive...you're aware of your continued existence. The next few hours are a blur of confusion and sleep comes at no small price, but in that 2.5 seconds, the only real clarity that you've had in your life remains vivid.

I almost died tonight in a car wreck...and I almost took three of my blood-loved with me.