Little Talks (JustKeepSwimmingx Comp.)

~~ Middle Part ~~

Shocked – that’s what I was. I didn’t know what I could do; I had no control over my body and I didn’t know what or how to feel about this whole thing. I just hoped we got out. Alive. I hoped and hoped until we were submerged underwater. We still had air, the bus wasn’t filled we water yet. I could see Felix fiddling with the controls at the front of the bus with blood trickling down from cuts he gained – everyone had cuts. I had just begun to notice the cuts I was also sporting when a loud pop that sounded like an explosion had erupted around us, and then water came pouring in. It was then that I knew how ironic Meredith’s ‘Be safe’ sounded, but I also knew that we weren’t going to live; no hope would help. More shrieks and cries had broken out, again.

While everyone was panicking, I stayed planted to my seat. Though I had one question for myself: how could I stay so calm? My started to race, an adrenaline kicked in, but I still did not want to move, did not want to join in on the panic.

Please let Elle know that I love her and don’t let her do anything stupid. I thought.

After a while, the salty water rose above my head and I couldn’t bear not being able to breathe, so I tried to break free of the bus. My shoes hit the windows, but they stayed intact. Next, I tried swinging my briefcase against it, but the water slowed everything down. Nothing was any use. We were going to die. I was going to die.

Moments passed and my lungs hurt so bad; I needed to breathe. I resisted. I couldn’t take it anymore, I took in a lungful – I knew it wouldn’t do anything, but I just had to. This whole process was agonising. Drowning was agonising. Dying was agonising. Finally, I stopped breathing and lay motionless.

I felt like I was being sucked out, kicked out and rejected by my body – I didn’t know how or why. But then, I saw the others, they were floating, just like me. Then, it clicked. We were ghosts, now – spirits. Feeling trapped, but free and worried, I worked out how to move and drifted home to Elle.

When I reached the house, I went in and saw Elle waiting for me; I was normally home by that time, I think, though I had no idea what the time was. Later that night, the police came and told her the news – news that I had died.

“Hello, ma’am. Are you Elle Jenkins?” An officer asked.

“Yes. What’s wrong?” A confused and worried Elle replied.

“I’m sorry to inform you that your husband has passed away. He was on a bus and there was a car crash – the bus swerved off into the ocean...”

By then, she had broken down and cried. She looked so fragile and I wanted to be there to comfort her, but I couldn’t. I was dead.

Weeks passed and Elle was still stuck in bed. Jeremy, my son, had come along to stay and look after her. That was another thing, I was still capable of feeling – I missed them both. It was my funeral, today, and Jeremy had to force Elle out of bed. It would be strange attending my own funeral. I’d see all the faces of the people I once knew – would they miss me or was I someone they had memories with, someone who was fading from their minds already? It sounded odd, but I guess that was my fear: I was afraid of not being remembered, forgotten, in the midst of their lives. Perhaps it was better for them to forget me, to get on with their lives – they could be pain-free. Death: it made you think more and more about the things that mattered to you; it’s surprising, but that’s what it did.

Floating – drifting – I passed through the car, where Elle was now sitting at the back, and sat beside her as best I could in my murky, semi-translucent ghost-like state.

I stared at Elle; I couldn’t help it. It hurt to know that I wasn’t always there for her when she was there for me – I had so much regret. But being not being there for her was my biggest one. Jeremy sat in the driver’s seat and he drove to his home to pick up his wife, Carissa, and their daughter, June. I confess, I missed them, too.