Second Chance

Damian Jones

        I always wondered what I would look like when I was buried. What my family would choose to put on me, like I was 5 years old and my “mother” would pick out a color coordinated outfit for everyday. She would always tell me stories of how I had to have everything match, even when I would go to bed. If I had pink pajamas on I would have pink everything. ‘You always looked good’, she would say. Well I’m taking it that right now, since I just crawled up through 10 feet of dirt I don’t look so good. 

        My dress is a plum color with straps and a sweetheart neckline. It flows down to my knees as the wind blows it around. It is soft and smooth, like a pillow. Tears of fabric and dirt stains are all over the dress. The shoes are a dull golden wedge that faintly shimmers when the sunlight hits them just right and makes me at least two inches taller if not more. Long tangled locks of blonde hang down on my shoulders and continue all the way down my back. I run my hands over my face and hope I didn’t wipe dirt all over my cheeks. 

        Should I start walking? Should I try and go find Liam and Ray? What am I going to do? I can’t walk for 8 hours if I don’t even know where I am going and if I go back to my old house what am I going to say? I was dead for a year and now I’m alive and I need to find Liam? I don’t think that would go over so smoothly. More importantly how can I contact anyone? I don’t have my cell phone and even if I tried to call anyone my line would be shut off since everyone has thought that I was dead for a year. 

Wait. 

        If I go back to Thomas's hosue and hopefully he is home, I can ask Thomas if he knows where Liam and Ray went. Perfect! Let’s just hope that Thomas is home or something. I can just knock on the door,  and ask him where he is. Then I can call Liam and tell him to come get me or something. That is, if he answers his phone. He used to never answer his phone. Whether it be a text from his dad or a call from his mom he would never answer. So, hopefully his habits changed from when he was ten years old and he will actually cooperate. 

        After some hard thinking I decide to proceed with my awful plan. I seriously hope that I don’t run into my ‘parents’. Do you know how awkward that would be? They would most likely call the police and call me an impostor or some mental patient. This is going to be very very difficult. 

        The wind starts to make me cold, so I decide to walk hoping that it will get warmer as I keep going. From the looks of it, it has to be around three o’ clock at the latest, so by the time I get there, it’s going to be very late. Realizing that walking a good five hundred miles in wedges wouldn’t be such a good idea, I take them off and hold them in my hand. I shiver when my hand makes contact with the gold heels. I didn’t realize how cold they were before. 

        The sky starts to get darker, so that means I’ve been walking for a good two or three hours. Suddenly a man comes up to me and I freeze. 

“Can you help me miss?” 

        He looks familiar, like I’ve seen him before not too long ago. His olive skin and faint tan freckles splattered like paint all over his face. Strands of dark chocolate brown hair hang down over his ocean blue eyes. I snap out of my daze realizing that I was practically swooning over a guy that I’ve only known for about two minutes. 

“What do you need help with?” I ask. 

“I’m not sure how to get to San Francisco from here.” The man chuckles nervously.

“Me either.” 

“Well, let’s find out together.” He opens the door of his car and I gladly take a seat. 

“Thank you.” I smile. 

“If we’re going to the same place we might as well go together right?”