Finding Hope

Chapter One

Hope

They say you never know the exact moment that will alter the path of your life until you're looking it in the eye.

What will you do? How will you react? If you could experience the moment again and change your course of action for a different outcome, would you?

For me, the answer to the last question is easy.

Of course I'd go back and do things differently. But it's easy to sit here now, months later, and say that. If I could, I would go back to the moment I lost my temper. I would stop yelling and keep driving. I would have never pulled over to the side of the road. I would have said those words everyone wants to hear, what everyone is supposed to say.

It's easy to play the "I would" game. But that's not reality. And it only makes the truth that much harder to deal with.

I didn't keep my temper in check. I pulled over on the shoulder and got out like a spoiled brat, yelling the words you should NEVER say to those you love; I hate you.

Looking back now, I can't even remember why I was mad; it's so insignificant.

But what happened in the next few moments I would never be able to get out of my head; they were the defining moments that altered the path of my life forever. Indefinitely.

We were on the main highway back toward our town of Oakwood from Atlanta. I was standing on the shoulder of the road, on the passenger side of the car, furious. I should have seen the lights of the oncoming car headed right toward the parked car, but I didn't; I was distracted by her.

I was too busy yelling at the person I loved more than anything in the world to see that something very bad was going to happen.

It wasn't until I saw the look of terror flit across her face that I looked to my right, the headlights shining bright; headed straight for us.

I remembered yelling as loud as I could for her to get out of the car; to run. But it was too late. The oncoming car struck our parked car, rolling it several times from the impact.

Of course, I only remembered that because that's what I was told when I woke up in the hospital.

A piece of debris had flown off and hit me, throwing me several feet from the crash, effectively moving me out of harm's way so to speak. I was knocked out cold by whatever had hit me.

When I woke up, I was told I'd been unconscious for 9 days and that I had several broken bones. I'd had surgery to repair a puncture wound to my right lung and a pin put in my knee.

Of course at that moment, I had no idea why I was laying in the hospital bed. I didn't remember the accident. I cried for my mother and father, but was told that they weren't there but that they should be shortly and they would contact them to let them know I was awake.

It was at that moment that I knew something bad had happened. If they weren't with me, they were with her. A whole new wave of panic rushed through me and I started having a panic attack that was only made worse by my injuries.

After the nurses had calmed me down, I laid there motionless for what felt like days but was really only 30 minutes they'd told me later on.

When my parents rushed in my room, panicked expressions on their faces, my fears were only confirmed; something had happened to her.

I cried out her name and my mother broke down. Full, heavy sobs racked her body as she crumbled into my father. I felt my eyes fill with tears, not having a clue why my mother was so upset.

My father had sat my mother in a chair next to my bed and then sat on the edge of my bed before grabbing my hands with his. He looked me right in the eyes with his tear-filled ones and dread rushed through my body.

"No..." I cried out. Another loud sob escaped from my mom, and dad winced, tears escaping his eyes. "NO!"

"Honey," he said as calmly as he could, holding onto my hands for dear life as I tried to escape his grasp.

"NO!" I cried as he leaned into me, using his body weight to calm me down.

"Hope, Haley is gone," he choked out. Haley. Is. Gone.