Driver's License

Driver’s License

By: Cailyn Haselberger

October 19th, the day she has been waiting for ever since she learned you got your license once you turned 16. Olivia has had a calendar counting down the days since her birthday last year. But today, the calendar says 0, it is finally her sixteenth birthday.

She woke up this morning with the biggest smile I have seen on her face in a minute. She sang along to the music on the radio as she drove us to the DMV with dad in the front seat “helping her” for the very last time.

With the window rolled down, her auburn hair danced in the wind. Even while we waited for hours at the DMV, she still bounced with enthusiasm, energy filling every fiber or her being. Of the two of us, she has always been the more energetic one.

After waiting for what felt like eons, but it was really just a few hours, they finally called us up to the desk. One dreadfully long conversation later, Olivia walked out of the DMV with a brand new license in her hand.

“Olivia Prescott,” she read aloud, “16 years, Hair: Red, Eyes: Green.” She jumped, raising her card in the air and pumping her fist. “Cassie I got it! I finally got it!” I remember that feeling, I got my driver's license last year, around the same time. Our birthdays are only one year and 11 days apart, so we usually just celebrate them together. But this year Olivia’s going out with her friends, getting to drive herself there and back. Which leaves me and Dad alone all night to watch whatever scary movie we want since my sister hates them-and Halloween is just around the corner.

After a day of indoor birthday celebrations, due to a sudden rainstorm, and a really delicious Oreo ice cream cake, me and Dad say goodbye to Olivia and get set up on the couch.

“Alright Cassie, what movie would you like to watch tonight?” Dad asks. After a debate we end up watching the first Scream movie, a classic. Just before Steve is about to get murdered, our phone rings, me and Dad both flinch.

“You think it’s ghost face?” I jokingly, for the most part, tease my dad.

He very sarcastically comments back, “Haha, very funny Cass.” He picks up his phone and his expression quickly changes to become much more concerned. He frantically picks up the call.

“Hello? Yes, this is Daniel Prescott. Olivia? What Happened? Where is she?” My dad rapid fire questions the person on the other end of the phone. What could have happened to Olivia that could worry Dad this much? I need to know what is wrong, my head is full of worst-case scenarios

“Cassie, grab your things we got to go” he tells me in the most serious voice I’ve ever heard from him. We scramble into the car, he sits in the passenger seat so he can focus on his phone call.

“Cassie drive to the hospital,” he says. The hospital! He did not tell me that before. Every scenario in my head gains speed, the all swirl around in my mind, a hurricane of thoughts. What could have possibly happened to Olivia that she would need us to go to the hospital? I try to focus on the road but I can’t stop thinking about it.

After we’ve been driving for over 5 minutes, he finally hangs up the phone and stops interrogating that poor person.

“Dad, what is it?” I need to know now or I will drive myself crazy thinking about it.

His voice cracks, on the verge of tears, “Driving in the rain was always her Kryptonite.” That is true, Olivia is usually good at everything she tries. But the one time I’ve truly seen her struggle is the first few times she drove in the rain.

“Dad, tell me, what happened,” I demand.

“It’s the hospital, they called, Olivia got in a gigantic car crash and they’re rushing her to the ER right now.” He finally explains, voice still full of worry and concern. I weave through cars, I probably should not be driving like this, but for once I do not care. I need to see Olivia. What if she is paralyzed and can never walk again, or worse-what if she is already dead.

After way too slow of a drive we pull into the hospital parking lot. Me and Dad both get out of the car and begin to run. I am running the fastest I ever have, faster than I did during middle school track.

We get to the secretary's desk, “Hi I’m Daniel Prescott, where’s Olivia Prescott?” My dad says quickly while trying to catch his breath.

“I am sorry you can’t visit her right now, the doctor is with her.” The lady says, but she doesn’t really seem all that sorry.

“Ma’am I need to see my daughter now, I don’t even have to talk to her, I just have to see if she’s okay,” he demands.

She looks him directly in the eyes, “Sir I am telling you, you cannot see her right now. I am sorry but that is final, she will likely be ready for visitors in an hour.” Dad opens his mouth and then shuts it again. He’s usually not the arguing type but this is a pretty serious matter. We sat in the waiting room full of nervous energy for an hour and 42 minutes.

When suddenly, the phone rings, the secretary puts it up to her ear, “Okay, you sure?” She asks, with a very confused look on her face. “Alright you’re the boss,” She hangs up the phone and yells in our direction, “They’re letting you see Olivia even though her treatments are not done, Room 2113.”

“Thank you so much,” I say, me and dad jump out of our seats and head to the elevator. The elevator chimes and releases us into a long, seemingly never ending hallway.

My dad mumbles, “2110, 2111, 2112, 2113!” We knock on the door and a man with a blinding white lab coat opens it.

He says, “I assume you’re Olivia’s family? Just a warning before you see her, she’s not looking so well, but we are working the best we can to save her.” Save her! That’s something doctors only say when someone’s going to die.

“She’ll be okay, right?” I ask, I cannot lose her.

He nods, “Yes.” He moves out of the doorway and we see her. She has gauze around her head, covering a pretty serious wound where the wheel must have met her forehead during the crash. She looks tired and confused. Her knee looks bent in the wrong direction and I assume it’s broken. Her gauze is soaked through and more blood is still coming out.

I greet her, “Hi Livy,” a nickname we haven’t used since we were kids.

“I’m sorry,” she says, “There was so much rain, I couldn’t see, and the car in front of me stopped so quickly and I tried to turn away. Why would I turn away! I’m so stupid” Her words almost sound drunk, she probably has a concussion.

“Olivia, it happens, it’s your first day with a license." Dad says, “The doctor said you’re going to be okay.”

The doctor changes her gauze, there's another gash on the side of her head, she is losing a lot of blood.

“Livy, you will be okay, you’re strong, I love you so much,” I say, worried that the opposite is true. What if she’s not okay, what if this is the last time I see her. I grab her hand and squeeze it tight so she can feel how much I love her. A machine starts beeping rapidly.

“We’re going to have to ask you two to step out of the room,” the doctor says.

My dad exclaims, “What? Is she okay, what did you do? You can’t just tell me to leave, this is MY daughter” Olivia’s face shifts into a painful grimace, something’s not right.

“We are trying to save your daughter, go now.” He is not asking, he demands that we leave. Me and Dad leave the room as Liv goes unconscious.

“Dad I’m scared,” it sounds so stupid but I don’t know what else to say.

He hugs me, “I know Cass, me too, the doctors are going to do their jobs and she’s going to be alright.” We go back down to the waiting room to talk to the front desk lady again.

“Hello again, is there any way you would know when we can see Olivia again?” My dad asks the lady.

“We have no way of knowing I am sorry sir, you can stay in the waiting room or you can go home.” I look at dad and wait for his response.

“Cassie, are you okay to stay here for a bit?”

“Yeah, of course.” I reply, we go and sit down in uncomfortable waiting room chairs for 4 hours.

The clock on the wall reads 12:38. I sit awake, alone with my thoughts since dad fell asleep about an hour ago. A new lady sits at her desk typing away, she must do the night shift. The phone rings and my dad jumps awake.

“Hello? Oh no, that’s awful, okay I will let them know,” she seems distressed. She walks over to us, “I’m so sorry to be the ones telling you this but Olivia didn’t make it.”

“What? What do you mean?” I say, this can’t be real, the floor is opening under me into a black void that threatens to swallow me whole.

“The doctors couldn’t save her, she had several head injuries and they couldn’t stop the bleeding.” They try to calm us down but my dad won’t have it.

“You guys had one job, one job do you hear me? But you couldn’t do it, you killed my daughter.” He is livid and yelling, I’m too empty to be angry. Dad is still yelling but I can’t hear him, my ears are ringing so loudly and I can’t stop crying. It’s just all so much I don’t know if I can live without her.

Olivia’s funeral is a sea of black. Everything opposite of how she was, she would want us all to be dressed in bright colors. But she’s not here to say that, so here I am in my black, knee length dress, in shock but still here. There are people giving speeches but I can’t hear them. This doesn’t feel real, I’m in some kind of a strange dream. Olivia lies in the casket wearing the blue dress that always seemed to make her eyes sparkle just a bit more. But that can’t be my baby sister, no, that must be someone else. The speech I wrote is written on my palm in smudged pen ink, I don’t even know what I’m going to say. The whole day feels like an awful distorted nightmare.

That night I lay awake staring at my ceiling. People always talk about the 1st stage of grief being denial, but this doesn't feel like denial, it just doesn’t feel real. Nothing feels real anymore, silent tears slide down my face.

I don’t remember falling asleep but it must have happened at some point because I woke up in the middle of the night. My alarm clock reads 2:17, I have the strangest sensation I’m being watched. I’m terrified to turn around, but I know nothing's actually there, this happens all the time. I am just about to turn around when my lamp turns on. This is starting to feel eerie and I’m getting a strange feeling in my stomach. The light starts flickering, faster & faster until it suddenly stops. I slowly turn around, and there she is, standing above me.

“Olivia?” I mumble very confused. Okay now I am definitely dreaming. But this feels too realistic. I bite my tongue as hard as I can and I know I’m awake. How is this happening? We buried you today. I watched Olivia’s casket get slowly lowered into the ground just this morning.

“Liv? I thought you were dead?” I need her to answer me, instead she just smiles and fades away.

“No, no, no, come back!” I can’t lose her again. I jump out of bed and lunge to where she was standing but I grab nothing except air. Was that a ghost? I always thought those weren’t real, it seems I was wrong. I’m unsettled, but in a way I’m happy because Olivia isn’t fully gone.

“Please, come back,” I whisper. Whatever kind of spirit she’s turned into is following me for some reason and I need to know why.

The next morning I head to the local thrift store to see what kind of witchy things I can find there that might help. There’s always some kinds of knick knacks and incense there. I walk into the store, immediately the dust hits my nose and I sneeze. After a lot of digging through racks and buckets I found it. I wipe off the dust and see off white letters, it’s a ouija board. I can use this to talk to her! It seemed like for some strange reason she couldn’t talk to me. Next to it lays a copy of a guide to the spirit realm, that seems like it could be helpful. I walk up to the man at the counter to see how much they cost.

“Got some interesting activities planned tonight huh?” He asks me.

“What?” I’m confused, then I realize I’m buying a bunch of ghost supplies which is a bit strange. “Oh yeah, I’m..having a party with my friends.” A quick lie that probably made things more awkward, but felt right to say anyways.

I walk out of the thrift shop while forming a plan in my mind. I’ll read this book to figure out why she’s here. If any of the fiction books I’ve read have some truth to them, spirits always have a reason for staying on earth.

Once I get home I sit down in the living room chair and get to reading. Apparently spirits either stay if they have unfinished business or just aren’t ready to move on yet. I don’t know what Olivia could have unfinished because she accomplished her last goal right before she died. So maybe she’s just not quite ready? Dying is a pretty scary concept so I can see why she would be hesitant. I can’t wait, in a few hours I’ll get to talk to her again.

As the sun sets I pace with nervous anticipation. I don’t think she’d be an angry spirit, she wasn’t a very vengeful person. When the sun finally sleeps behind the horizon I sit down at the table I set up in my bedroom. I have my book open to page 134, How to use a Ouija Board. Step 1, begin by selecting a quiet sacred space. I would say my room is pretty quiet and sacred, right? Step 2, you can light different candles in your space, particularly white or green. I have some electric candles for when I carve my pumpkin so I hope those are good enough. Step 3, stand or sit with your spine straight and feel the earth's energy flow beneath you. Step 4, welcome spirits and start with your first question. Okay, it's go time.

“Hello, Olivia Prescott are you in this room?” I nervously ask. The wooden piece begins to move. Y E S. Holy crap it’s working, I start to ask my questions. “Hi Olivia, I miss you so much, how are you doing?” C O N F U S E D. Why would she be confused, I’d say her life is pretty concrete right now. “Why are you confused?” C A N T L E A V E. Okay, so she’s not staying by choice which means she has some unfinished business here. I ask her a bit of a heavy question, “Do you want to leave?” Y E S A N D NO. What the heck does that mean? Maybe she needs to move on but is not ready to leave me and dad yet? “What’s keeping you here?” N E V E R D R O V E. Suddenly it’s all making sense now, Olivia never succeeded in driving by herself. Her one attempt ended in failure. So if I can find a way to have her drive she can go. Part of me really doesn’t want to help, I want to keep her here with me but I know that is not what she needs. “Okay follow me I have an idea.” If I can drive the car, with her sitting in the seat at the same time with her ghost hands on the wheel it has to count, right?

I turn on the gas and make a motion for her to sit, “Come here and put your hands on the wheel, you’re going to drive the car.” The lights flash all on their own so I know she’s ready. I start to drive around the block, we perfectly turn each corner. We make it back to the drive way and I know it’s time to say goodbye even if I’m not ready. But Olivia needs to move on to wherever she’s meant to be. I turn the key to the ignition and the car stops.

“Olivia?” I ask, waiting for the lights to turn on. No flash, “Are you there?” Nothing is aging. She must have moved on. Maybe it’s time that I move on as well, she wouldn’t want me to be stuck crushed and empty forever. I take a deep breath, open the car door, and take a deep breath of fresh, crisp fall air.