'My mind is a wild carnival ride
but I cannot get off'
After succumbing to the heavy weight of her eyelids, Iara finds the strength to open them. She is greeted with a rhythmic flashing of blue and red lights and authorities chatting amongst each other. She takes a breath in, but is halted by a feeling of painful constriction against her lungs. Looking at the airbag before her, she finds it difficult to witness how the originally cream colour of it, has now turned to red.
"Okay we are going to get you out." A man in a white uniform claims. He then reaches in and grabs Iara's body, pulling her out and onto a stretcher. The sunlight burns her bloodshot eyes.
"Okay ma'am, we are going to take you to hospital, you are in a very critical condition." He says. Iara disagrees.
"No please." Her voice hoarse as she speaks.
"I need to go somewhere else."
The man's lips are pushed together causing a straight line to appear on his face.
"No, we have to take you to hospital." He rebuts, using more force than before.
"No! Please take me to..." She starts to look around frantically for her phone.
"Where?"
"...uh, my phone, my phone has the address please get it for me." She begs, tears welling in her eyes. The man gives in and goes back into the car to search for her phone and backpack. After a minute he comes out, phone and backpack in hand.
"Here." He passes it to her.
She unlocks it and shows him the address she wishes to go to.
"I'm sorry to disappoint you but that is a residential home, not a place where your wounds can be treated." He informs her.
"I know! But I need to go here. You don't understand. Just let me go." She lies back down on the stretcher, feeling hopeless.
He bends down and whispers in her ear.
"Fine. I'll take you there, okay?" The man leaves and Iara watches as he mingles with his colleague. He uses unnecessary hand gestures and facial expressions. He walks back to Iara and signals her to get up. She does and follows him into his car.
"Thank you so much." She speaks as they buckle in their seat-belts and start into the direction Iara desires.
The passing of the trees piques her curiosity and imagination. She inspects each one as they pass her by; some have dark as night trunks whilst others are pale like a ghost. Leaves can either be sharp and dark green or soft and light with flowers sprouting out of its branches. The motion of the car creates one big blur of the trees in her vision.
Iara observes how the sunlight breaks through the gaps where leaves are absent and how the sunlight is blocked when they are present.
She looks down and is fascinated how the white broken lines on the tarmac merge into one because of the speed of the car. She winds down the window and her brown tightly wound locks fly in the wind. She feels the coolness reach her hot scalp and when she runs her hand through her flowing hair, she loves how the breezes gives it an airy quality.
It is now, Iara feels here, and at peace.