After The Fact

I open my eyes with the feeling that the day has been waiting. 8:12, let it wait longer, three more minutes till my alarm goes off. Three more minutes of freedom. Three minutes pass, and I am jolted awake for the second time.

Crawling out of bed, my body feels stiff as a rock. It’s just cold, I tell myself as I wipe the sweat from my forehead. My hands instinctively scrape away the crusted gunk wedged in the corners of my eyes. Standing up, I pull apart the curtains, letting the fresh beams of sunlight illuminate the room and paint the walls with vibrant colors. The brightness is harsh on my raw eyes as I open the window. A gust of fresh chilly air rushes in to replace the suffocating humidity, trapped after last night’s shower. I blink hard as my eyelids struggle to stay up. The usually loud and bustling city feels eerily quiet, other than the occasional rumble of a car and the muffled sound of sirens in the distance.

What a time to be alive.

I stroll into the bathroom to brush my teeth and attempt to wash off the drowsiness from my face. I gotta look sharp for my first day on the job. The world has been rough on me lately, nice for something to finally go my way. I look at myself in the mirror and practice my plastered smile. Why do I always look so awkward? I let out a heavy sigh and forage through my closet to find my business clothes. The coffee stain on the collar of my polo has mostly vanished, its borders blurred by countless scrubs and gallons upon gallons of dish soap.

I optimistically pack my suitcase and look for my phone. I find it plugged into a charger and shove it into my pocket along with my earbuds. I double-check everything I need and quickly scan the entire room.

Time to go, 8:30.

I trudge down the rusty steps of my apartment building, its steps creaking with each heavy footstep. I’m so glad my new workplace is only a few blocks away. It’s just a ten-minute walk. No need to waste so much money on Ubers and taxis or whatever. I really am lucky, I think to myself as I turn onto the sidewalk. I’m especially lucky that I get to work with my good friend Oliver.

My every breath exhales as clouds, fogging up my vision as I step into the cold grasp of winter. The air feels crisp and sharp as it climbs up my nose and into my lungs. The city begins to come alive as more and more people loosely scatter the walkways. The world seems to be waking up. Yet, noises still sound unclear to me, as if I were eavesdropping on echoes. I’ll just blame it on my weariness. I pop in my earbuds for some music, yet even that sounds distant.

I try not to think about it.

Instead, I contemplate what I should get for breakfast. I could go to a corner store and just get a quick snack, or potentially get a quick breakfast meal to-go, or I could go to the nearby Starbucks for a coffee and maybe a sandwich. I check the time on my phone, 8:36. I should have enough time for coffee. I woke up extra early today. I’m not tryna be late on my first day. The phone was already halfway into my pocket when I felt a buzz. It’s just a battery alert. Damn it, 17%. I swear I charged it last night, maybe the charger wasn’t fully plugged in. Whatever. I need this music. Surely someone at work has a charger.

While waiting at the crosswalk to the cafe, I admire the beautiful cityscape. Looking to my right, buildings rise on either side of the street as it slivers between like a river at the base of towering canyon walls. The crosswalk light changes. The sunlight shines through the gap between the buildings, its rays gliding through the air like a knife through butter. Man, this view is just beautif-

“OH SHIT-”

I hear the engine growl a second too late. I stumble as a car almost blindsides me, close enough for me to be able to examine my reflection in the car window, fast enough for it to hurtle past me in a blur. My breath gets trapped in the bottom of my throat. Adrenaline shoots through my skull as I attempt to regain my balance. I clench down hard on the suitcase handle, digging my nails into my palm. My other arm shoots out to prevent me from tumbling onto the asphalt. Debris and sand lodge themselves into my skin, stabbing into the tender flesh on my hand. The music in my ear stops, engulfing me in silence. Suddenly, an uncontrollable tremble begins in my hands and shoots through my entire body like a wildfire of micro earthquakes before it abruptly stops.

As fast as it came, it went. The car seems to pause for a second and then speed off as if the whole incident was my fault. I stand back up.

The entire ordeal must have been a second long, but it was one of the longest seconds of my life. I quickly scurried to the safety of the sidewalk. I felt more shock than anger. That woke me up better than any amount of coffee could. Despite the panic in the moment, I actually felt surprisingly calm and relaxed. The sun was still radiating, birds still chirping, life still functioning. The world lives on.

I brush down my hands, check my shirt, pat down my pants, clean my suitcase, feel through my pockets. Everything checks out. I see no reason not to continue, and I’m almost at Starbucks. The music in my ear still hasn’t returned. I assume my phone probably just died. It’s alright. The silence feels peaceful and welcoming. With the peace, my mind once again wanders, and I realize I forgot to close my window. Whatever, I’ll just close it when I get back home at the end of the day.

Suddenly, I see a news reporter and a cameraman charging down the sidewalk towards me. I shuffle to the side, and yet an elbow still manages to graze my arm. A hint of annoyance creeps over my lips. Does nobody see me today? It’s like I’m invisible. Just because you’re in a rush doesn’t mean you gotta be a jerk. I brush it off and continue in silence.

As I am about to reach my destination, I spot Oliver walking out the door of Starbucks, a dozen steps away.

“Oliver!” I call out. My voice sounds muffled as my earbuds obstruct my hearing. I straighten out my posture. “Oliver!” I call again.

His eyes dart up from his phone and look in my direction. I wave, expecting to see or hear a response, only to be met with silence. He seems to be looking beyond me, through me. For a moment, Oliver simply stood there. Then he rushes past me, leaving me alone with the crowd.

He was just distracted, that’s all.

I look back at him as he turns his speed-walk into a jog. Weird. Our workplace isn’t that way. Must’ve forgotten something at home.

I walk up to the Starbucks and stroll through their automatic door. Or, at least tried to. The door seems to hesitate, as if it were deciding whether or not I counted as a solid object or not. I nearly walk headfirst into the glass before the door finally begins to open. For me or for someone across from me, I don’t know. I helplessly stare into my distorted reflection inches away from my face as the door opens. What is going on? I just want some coffee and breakfast. Maybe the door is just a little old.

I continue into the cafe and am greeted by a wave of warm air. The interior is neatly decorated with small circular tables sprinkled throughout the main room, and small plants are used generously to embellish the furniture. The lighting and red oak wood furnishing give the cafe a cozy vibe and a warm tint that contrasts with the intriguing ocean mural painted on the wall.

I step in line to place my order. While waiting, I admire the intricate design above me. What must be hundreds of walnut colored hexagons cluttered the ceiling, leaving perfect imperfections in the narrow gaps between them.

I feel a buzz in my pocket. I whip out my phone and check my notifications. It’s a text from Oliver.

“Yo im at the crosswalk b/w walnut street and aston avenue”, the first message reads.

“Some guy got hit by a car and he lowk looks kinda like you.”

“Thats not u right?”

“Ur good right?”

I text back “Nah im good musta been someone else, u acc walked right past me like a minute ago”. Hope that guy’s okay though. I click send, but it doesn’t work. Must be the internet connection. I scroll to the internet settings, but then I stop. Wait, didn’t my phone die? I look at the battery. 17%. There’s no way after all this time and music, it’s still at 17%.

I step out of line.

I look up at the time on the clock, 8:41. I look at the time on my phone, 8:39. My eyebrows furrow. What the-

I look at the TV, “Breaking news, a hit and run at the intersection between Walnut Street and Aston Avenue results in the death of one man, time of death has been confirmed to be 8:39 am. The driver has yet to be identified-”

I get a call. It’s from Oliver. I frantically click answer, but my phone is unresponsive. I helplessly watch as the call turns into voicemail. I feel my chest. Nothing. I feel my wrist. Nothing. I put my hand to my mouth.

I walk back outside. I realize I can no longer see my breath. I have no breath. And yet the panic refuses to set in. An ambulance blocks the road I was on just three minutes ago, its siren sounds clear as day.

I feel drawn to it.

I walk towards it.

I jog.

Run.

Sprint.

I’m there.

I look around. Oliver is there. My eyes wander to my apartment, window still open.

I receive a message. It’s from Oliver.

“Hello?” Time. 8:42 am.

This message arrived three minutes after I died.