Breaking Point

Part Three: The Accident

Part Three: The Accident

Think before you act. One of life's famous lessons. Whoever invented that knew what they were talking about, believe me, because there are some acts in life that can never, ever be undone, no matter how much you want to reverse time, no matter how far you would be willing to go to change it all back.

The party is by far the best celebration I have been to in a long, long, while. It feels so good to just kick back and relax with my closest friends that the victory over the Bursville Badgers was merely a cherry on top of an already delicious sundae. I had been so focused on training for softball that I had forgotten what it was like to be goofy, how fun it was to sing at the top of your lungs, how incredible it was to go dancing without a care in the world. That is how it is tonight; the weight of the world was lifted off my shoulders as soon as I walked into the Retro Cafe, and words cannot even do that feeling justice. I am drunk on the excitement, high on the pure joy, dizzy with the hope it provides me.

I am standing at the juke box (a necessity in an 80's-themed restaraunt) toggling the songs when Robin sneaks up on me, grabbing me by the waist. I let out a giggle-shriek and try to pull his hands off me. Oh wow; his hands. I have never realized how strong and capable-looking they were.

"Let me go!" I cry out between laughs.

"Not until you tell me the password," he taunts, spinning me around once for emphasis.

"Ugh," I pretend to groan, the corners of my lips turning upward. "I don't remember hearing about any sort of password."

"Well, duh, why would I tell you it? Where is the fun in that?"

Robin is honestly the perfect boyfriend. He is everything I always wanted in a guy; he is sweet, hilarious, romantic, intelligent, and seems to be right out of a fairy tale. When we kiss, our mouths fit together like puzzle pieces that have found their long-awaited match. When we hug, I never want to let go. When our eyes meet, a warm tingle zaps down my spine, the kind of tingle you think only exists in movies or fantasies. Everything he said and did made me fall for him even harder.

It all started in the sixth grade. Even though we had known each other since kindergarten, we had never actually spoken until middle school, when we had almost every single class together. Our teacher stuck us together for a science project, and ever since we have been best friends. In eighth grade we had our first kiss and, well, the rest is ancient history.

"Fine," I say thoughtfully. "How about 'you are the best boyfriend in the world?'"

"Well, that is true," Robin agrees, and I can see the smile on his face even though my back is to him. "But I was looking for something different."

"Oh, come on," I sigh, knowing he is as serious as serious can be. "You are the cutest guy I have ever met?"

"Hmm," he ponders it, then shakes his head. "Give it all you've got. One more try."

"I love you." It slips out of my mouth before I can stop it, and I am not sure I would have stopped it if I had the chance anyways.

"Ding ding ding," he says, releasing me. I swivel around to face him, and our eyes instantly connect. "And I love you too."

It is not the first time we have said those words, but they never lose their magic for me. I wrap my arms around his neck, and we kiss, everything around us disappearing as we get lost in each other's arms.

"Eww," Harmony flounces over to us and interrupts. "Don't you lovebirds have some other place to be?"

Robin and I both laugh as we pull away.

"Whatever," she says, rolling her chocolate eyes at us. "I'm heading out. See you at practice Monday, Kat?"

"Of course," I respond, still blushing. I look around and am surprised to see that almost everyone has gone. Where did the night go? "See you, Harmony."

Robin and I are the very last to leave. The manager is just about closing up shop when we walk down the road to Robin's beaten-up Subaru. The night is peacefully quiet, with not a soul in sight. It is just Robin, me, and the stars, lighting our way as we stride towards the lot we parked in, which is a good three minutes away. The silence feels weird after such a noisy evening, and suddenly I am desperate to make it loud again. A spontaneous idea pops into my head, and I roll with it.

 "Tag! You're it." I inform Robin as I tap him lightly on the shoulder and dash out into the deserted street.

"Oh, you are so on, Woodrow!" Robin calls as he chases after me, and I squeal giddily in response, sniggering at the stupidity of this whole scenario. I feel like a little child again as I dash from one side of the road to the other, laughing even harder everytime I manage to dodge one of Robin's hands, which are not nearly as fast-moving as they looked earlier.

Then, all of a sudden, I hear something in the distance. I stop short in the middle of the road, and Robin finally tags me, exclaims "Yes! You're it!"  and, gasping for air, runs away. However, I hardly notice. I am too focused on that noise, the low smooth grumble of--of--damn, what was it? It is getting closer, and now I can make it out clearly. There is no mistaking the deep, silky voice of an engine speeding up.

Before I know it, I see headlights turning around the corner, see in clear view the car barrelling towards me at breakneck speed, swerving all over the place, see the driver in the front seat, drunk as a skunk, a foolish grin on his face, see the danger hurtling my way; my eyes see it all. But apparently, my legs don't. It is as if someone has stuck them to the pavement with super-glue, nailed them down to the black road with a hammer, and placed two-ton bricks on my feet for good measure. All I could do was stare. I stare as the car gets nearer and nearer, bathing me in yellow fluorescent light. I stare as the driver veers past a stop sign, and continues on, his eyes glazed and crazy. I stare when Robin cries out, "Katrina!" and scrambles over to me. I do nothing but stare as my life flashes before my very eyes. I stare for the whole five seconds it took for all this to happen.

And then, when the car is so close I can reach out and touch it, I squint my eyes shut so tight it hurts.

All of a sudden, I am flying through the air, my torso whipping so far backwards I am practically folded in half. I let out a blood-curding scream, my eyes still closed with force. My heart is beating against my ribcage so rapidly I think it is going to stop working all together. My mind is going a mile a minute, flashing back to every happy moment of my life, absorbing what I assume to be my last memory. Then, with an ear-splitting crunch!, my body collides with the solid street, my whole world crashing down with it..

My next shriek is one bursting with agony, one so heart-wrenching I cannot even believe it has come out of my very own mouth. The pain is so excruciating it feels like all the air was just sucked out of my lungs, like an elephant has just taken a seat on me. My head is spinning around and around, like it does on those twirly rides at amusement parks, and I can feel something sticky and wet trickling down my forehead. I reach up to feel it, but extraordinary pain zaps through my arm, and I drop my limp hand to the ground, a whimper escaping my throat, which is threatening to close for good any second. My breaths are coming in short, quick gasps and I can feel life seeping out of me, my thoughts drifting to more important things than the torture I am going through, and that's when I remember: Robin! Where is he? Shouldn't he be at my side by now? Then a horrible thought materializes. Did he get hit as well? If this is really it, if this is really the end of Katrina Woodrow, then I have to know. I try desperately to shout his name, but it comes out in a hoarse whisper, and my chest feels like it is on fire when I open my mouth. The pain, oh, the pain! It's too much. Suddenly, my whole body goes numb, and I can feel myself shutting down. I start to panic. I open my eyes but all I see is a blinding light, so horribly, terribly blinding I begin to cry, tears cascading down my cheeks like two tiny waterfalls. I want to get up. I want to move. I want to run. I want to realize that it was all a nasty nightmare, that it was a cruel trick of my imagination. But I don't, because it isn't just a bad dream. It's real. I clench my fists together in a furious attempt to remain conscious, but all I get is a miserable stab of terror coursing through my veins. My eyelids droop, no matter how hard I try to force them back open.  Robin, I cry in my thoughts, wishing more than anything that he can somehow, some way, hear me, I love you! My eyes close, my muscles relax, and my heartrate slows as I black out.

This cannot be happening.