THE JOURNEY OF SHEIRA HART

53 | The Breeze Was Cold That Night

You know what people say, when you’re about to witness death, life flashes before you. Everything flashbacks in front of you as if you were watching a fast-forwarded movie. 

It didn’t happen to me at all. I was watching and nothing ever flashed before my eyes as I am witnessing my death. It’s probably because I am already inside a flashback. I don’t know. What matters to me now is to watch what would happen. Will I be dying here? Tonight? In this cold weather? 

My past self was still unaware of the incoming car. And I was still wrestling with whatever force is holding me back. 

It was bound to happen. Nothing would stop it from happening. They made sure of it. Life made sure of it. I remembered the newspaper we saw the first day we were here. I died in an accident. I remembered that time when Thorien showed me what I looked like in the glass wall of his café. I had wounds. A lot of them. And they weren’t just simple wounds. They were brutal. Something that I’d get from a car accident. 

I closed my eyes as I felt a tear rolling down my cheeks. I wasn’t prepared for this. I didn’t prepare myself for this. I had no idea it would feel like this. I was too driven to find out but I didn’t prepare myself to find out the truth.

It was then that I heard the tire screeching on the road and then screams from the people, followed by the impact of the car on something. To me. 

I opened my eyes to see the car barely hanging on the road and a little nudge would make it fall to the sea below. And I could see the people running towards the edge of the road. The cars stopped moving. Everyone stopped whatever they were doing just to run to the edge of the road to see whether the girl who fell with her bike is alright. 

But of course, I wasn’t alright. The car’s impact was too much for my body and I went flying straight to the sea. Together with the bike. They must be hoping I was still alive. Some might be curious if I was still alive after that. But I knew I wasn’t. Nobody would live after that. 

But then I heard a collective gasp and people started pointing towards the sea. Towards where I fell. I looked at what they were pointing and a hand flew to my mouth as I saw blood in the water. My blood. My hands were trembling and my heart was beating too fast I could almost hear it. I wanted to scream. I wanted to yell. I wanted to curse but what I just had witnessed was too much for me to even say a word. And all I could do was cry in silence as I watch myself slowly dying under the water. 

It must have hurt. I couldn’t help but wonder if I was still alive for a moment to feel the pain. Or did I die immediately to even feel a thing? 

I could hear the sirens coming. The traffic became bad and the area was protected by the police. Some rescuers dove into the sea to retrieve my body. And when they did, I could hear the gasps of the people as they saw my state. And I stared at my state. I was close enough to see it. 

My face was bruised. And my arms are at odd angles. My feet…my lips quivered as I saw the state of my feet. They were almost separated from my body. I suppressed a sob but I failed to hold it in when I heard a familiar voice. 

“Sheira!” My mother ran towards where my body is. My father and siblings followed after her. And it was heartbreaking to see them all breaking down as they saw the state of my body. My mother was wailing beside the bed where I was put. She was holding my bloody face and tried hugging my body as she continued to cry. My father had his back on my body. My siblings couldn’t go near me. It was a horrible sight. It must have been a horrible sight for them to see. 

Before I left the house, I must have been laughing with them. I must have been throwing jokes at them and then the next thing they know is that I was already dead from a brutal accident. My mother’s cry was heartbreaking yet I continued to watch. I continued to watch as she continued to hug my lifeless body. I continued to watch as my father comforted my siblings. I continued to watch because I couldn’t do anything else. Watching was all I could do. It was bound to happen to me. I knew it was bound to happen to me. Right when I removed the coat I was wearing that night, I knew right away I would die tonight. 

But seeing it happen, and seeing the people I love crying over my dead body, was torture. It was something designed to torture those who wished to know how they died. It is what they signed up for. 

I closed my eyes firmly as I stayed stuck in the air. The only thing I could hear was my mother’s heartbreaking cry as she continued to call my name. As if doing so would bring me back alive. She knows I was already dead. She knew right away the moment she hugged me. She knew right away. But my other refused to believe it. She was crying as she almost carried my body away from the bed. Her clothes were stained with blood. Her face too, as she continued to hug my face. The face that was so brutally damaged it doesn’t look like me anymore. Her hands and her arms were stained with blood. 

The rescuers managed to calm her down though as they tried to take my body inside the ambulance. My father then took my mother and hugged her tight together with my siblings as they watched the ambulance take my body away. 

The people remained in the area. And the one who was driving the car was also brought to the hospital. My family was asked to get inside the ambulance and will probably be driven to the hospital. It was a big accident. Even the news was there. 

I stayed there and watched the whole thing happen. I stayed there are the rescuers retrieved my bike from under the water. I stayed there and watched as the policemen pulled the car and investigated it. I stayed there even as some people went back to their respective businesses probably talking to their family and friends about it over dinner. I stayed even as the police wrapped up the investigation and brought the car and the bike somewhere. I stayed there when they put a mark there on the very spot where the accident happened. I stayed there watching even as the traffic continued to flow and everyone went back to what they were doing before the accident. 

The world continued moving that night a few hours after the incident. But for my family, their world stopped. My world stopped. And what’s worse is that I can’t get it to move again. And for my family, the hardest part was probably the acceptance of not being able to see me again. 

I stayed there watching even as the shops started to close. I stayed there even as the town went to sleep. They’re still probably talking about it. They’re still probably thinking about what I looked like. To some, it might be haunting. To some, it was something worth discussing before going to sleep. Some might be sympathizing. Some might be thinking how scared I was as it happened. 

I stayed there and when it was just me and the moon, and the ship boats in the water, I stared at the water blankly. I couldn’t cry. I don’t know why but I couldn’t cry. 

No one would hear me. I shouldn’t care. I was sad. I was mad. I was scared. I don’t know all those three feelings could coexist. I should cry. But for some reason, the tears wouldn’t come out. I don’t know what to feel. I don’t know what to do. I was frustrated that I couldn’t move. I couldn’t even go to embrace my family. I couldn’t even go to see who drove that car. It was punishment. 

I wanted to cry. And I realized how lonely I was. Death never felt so real than when I saw the people take my body out of the water. That time, my family must have been hoping. They must have been hoping I could still be revived. They must have been denying it. Not believing until it becomes too real. They must have been expecting me to come home that night. To have dinner with them than usual. My dad must have been expecting me to go home and watch my favorite shows. My mom must have expected me to go home that night and expected me to help her cook dinner. And yet I didn’t come home. And they see me almost ripped to pieces hauled out from the ocean. I couldn’t imagine the pain when they saw me. 

And then it happened. I felt the surroundings blur. I thought I was already crying. It might be something else. But I suddenly felt my head spinning. But I didn’t care. I didn’t mind the surroundings warping. In a few moments, I will be back to reality. I will be back to where I was before I warped into this flashback. But what would change? I just knew how I died. I just realized how brutal I died.

I was lonely. I couldn’t hug my parents. I couldn’t hug my siblings. I couldn’t hug my friends. I have never felt so lonely ever since I died. I didn’t even feel this lonely when I attended my funeral. I wasn’t this lonely when I watched them throw my ashes into the lake. And then I realized why. 

Mikhael was there. Mikhael was with me. Somehow, with him, I didn’t feel too lonely. Probably because the fact that he was also dead and that he is like me comforted me and I didn’t feel too lonely. Probably because he always knows what to say and he always knows how to change the mood. 

Or perhaps I have grown too fond of his presence and now that he is gone, I want to see him. I want to hear him. I want to talk to him. I want to talk to him about what I saw. Somehow, having him beside me while on this journey made it easier for me to cope up. 

He was there. He has always been there. I wasn’t used to it when he’s gone. I have grown too dependent on his presence. I thought I could make it. I thought I could be alright with him gone. But I couldn’t. I want to see him. 

The warping stopped and I found myself in my favorite spot. I still couldn’t cry and the surroundings clear. The warping has stopped. Watching yourself die was something I would not recommend. Watching yourself die is something traumatizing. I saw how my feet almost got separated from my body. I saw how my arms are at odd angles. I saw how blood tainted my cream-colored dress. I saw how life left my body. It was surreal. And even though I was already done with it, it kept replaying in my mind. Did they warn me something about getting crazy once I found out how I died? Did they give me some warning? And what’s worse is that I couldn’t even let it out. So the best thing I could do was to cry and I can’t even do that.

It was already night time and I was still sitting on the bench, watching the view of the city. Seeing how these people do their usual business. The cars' horns were so loud I could hear it from where I was. The tall buildings lit. The whole city was lively. And somewhere near it was a ghost who just saw how she died. The surrounding was not quiet. It was lively and yet I felt lonely. I hated it. I hated the feeling. 

I curled my knees up to my chest and I don’t know what I was feeling. I was feeling lonely. I wanted to cry. To somehow let the pain out. I want to let it out. But tears wouldn’t come out. 

“I hate this,” I mumbled to myself. I don’t know if I have ever felt something like this before when I was alive but I certainly hope not. 

I took a deep breath. Trying to keep myself calm.

“You look miserable without me around.” 

I froze on my feet and tried to process what I just heard. It came from behind me. I slowly unfurl my knees and stood up. 

It was then that tears started brimming my eyes. It was then that my lips quivered.

I turned to look behind me where he was standing. Where Mikhael di Angelo was standing. 

“Man, it’s so hard to find you. Where have you been?” he asked but I couldn’t form a response. I was busy staring at him, wondering if he was real. Wondering if he was really standing there, looking at me with a small smile on his face. 

I took a step forward. I want to tell him everything. I wanted to tell him what I just saw. What I just knew. I want to just tell him everything. To let it all out. 

“What’s wrong?” he asked. And the moment those words left his mouth, tears started falling down my face and I was sobbing in front of him. My vision blurred because of the tears but I didn’t care. I wiped it just to see him clearly. Just to make sure he wouldn’t disappear again. I don’t want him to disappear again. 

So I started walking towards him. Until I started running. And when I was finally close enough, I wrapped my arms around him tightly and buried my face on his shirt, and started sobbing. 

I felt him froze for a second as if he couldn’t believe what was happening. I didn’t care. I didn’t care if he finds it weird. I hugged him tightly and continued to cry. And then I felt his hand stroking my hair gently while his other hand was caressing my back. 

“I never thought you’d miss me this much, Sheira darling,” he said and I cried harder. I never realized how I missed even his voice. 

Indeed. I missed him. 

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