The accident

Why can’t I hear or feel anyone? Why is the car upside down? I see her—that’s my mom. She looks so sad. Maybe if I just get close enough, I can talk to her.

“Mom, I’m here. Is everything alright?”

She’s not answering.

“MOM, ANSWER!”

No, this can’t be happening. Am I dreaming? Why can’t I wake up? Everything’s blurry. I can’t breathe. My eyes are slowly shutting. I can’t stop it.

---

The same morning. Whoa—that was an intense dream. But wait, how did I get here? Why are my parents crying at a church? Maybe I’m not too late to enter. Maybe I should sit with them. Is this a funeral? Wait—why is my photo up there? I’m not dead, I’m right here.

“Pastor Josh, can I speak with you?”

Why can’t he hear me? Maybe if I open the casket… is that my body? But I’m not dead. I can hear everyone. I can see everyone. Wait—but I can’t feel the casket. What’s going on? Am I really dead? Am I a ghost?

I have to get out of here. I need to run home. Maybe if I go back to bed or sleep, I can wake up in the real world.

I’m running as fast as I can. Sweat is dripping down my forehead, my hands are clenched so tight, and my legs are burning. I need to run faster. Why does it feel like I’m not going anywhere? I can see that I’m running, but where am I running to? This isn’t a familiar spot.

Is that my dad? Why is he at a bar? Wasn’t he just at my funeral? Maybe I’m not dead. Maybe it’s a dream, but I’m stuck in it. Wait—that’s the bar next to my house. Why does it look so unfamiliar? I need to talk to my dad.

“Hey Dad, why are you in a bar?”

Not you too. Why can’t anyone hear me? Where do I go if nobody can hear me? What am I supposed to do? I can’t be dead. There’s no way. Because why would the afterlife make us suffer by being in a world where we see everyone but can’t feel or hear them?

I don’t know what to do anymore. If I’m really dead, how do I make this stop?

There’s my brother. Maybe he can hear me.

“Matthew, please tell me you can hear me.”

“What do you mean?” he said.

“I thought nobody could hear me. I was getting scared. I thought I was dead or something because everyone’s acting like they can’t hear me.”

Wait—but I can’t feel anyone or anything. Maybe I can touch my brother to see if I can feel him.

“That’s been happening to you also?” he said.

“Yes, but why can’t I feel anyone but you? And we’re the only two people nobody can hear.”

“I don’t know. I can’t feel anyone or anything either—besides you,” he said.

This isn’t real. He just turned away to look at Dad through that window. I’m running away from this place. It’s all just fake.

I start to run as fast as I can. It’s getting hard to breathe. I’m sweating, and my legs are burning. The trees are light brown with orange and green leaves, and the sky is so blue and pure, with the whitest clouds—almost like a dream.

This is the apartment I live in. Let me enter it.

“Hello, anyone home?”

I guess nobody’s here. Just old photos and dust. And this is all my stuff. All the photos of me were left here, along with my clothing, posters, and action figures. What the heck?

There’s a house phone. Maybe I can call my dad, ask him why he would leave my stuff behind, or talk to him or something. Let’s dial the number. Here we go—wait, why is it moving on its own? It’s ringing. Who did I accidentally call?

Someone answered.

“Hello?”

“Hi, who’s this?”

The grandma said, “Oh hey, I’m Jenny. My phone called you.”

You stupid—why would you tell someone on the phone that your device called them? That makes no sense. She’ll think I’m crazy.

“That’s alright, dear. Anyone who picks up this phone gets assigned to their personal angel,” she said.

“W-What?”

“I was kidding, dear,” she said.

“Okay, I’ve got to go.”

I hang up and leave the house. How did she hear me? How did the phone type its own number in? I’m so confused.

Oh no—there’s a car coming towards me. I need to get out of the way. I don’t have enough time. Where did these cars come from?

“Ahhhh!”

The car passes through me. I’m out of breath from screaming. I fall to the ground, close my eyes, and take a breath. Then I wake up.

---

“Sweetie, you’re awake,” my mother says.

“M-Mom, can you really see me?”

“Yes, sweetheart. You were in a coma for two years,” she says.

“I want to go home. Where’s Matthew?”

“He died, honey,” she says.

No, no. How could he have died? I saw him when I was dead for that time. I was talking to him. Maybe that’s why he was the only person I was able to touch and hear—because he and I were both dead, and somehow I was the one who came back.

“Let’s get home, sweetheart,” she says.

“Okay.”

I finally made it home, but my brother will never be back here. I need to see his room. He always kept a box under his bed with his favorite toy cars.

I open the box and see all his cars. Underneath is a photo of me and him when we were five and eight.

I need to figure out how this happened—how I was able to see him when I was dead.

Ohh, I remember now my was mom driveing and she got distracted with my brother in the backseat I heard tires screeching and I looked over and that's all I remember.

My poor brother Can't believe he's gone

---

THE END