I’m not sure who this guy is, or even why I decided to stop and give him a ride. I don’t usually pick up hitchhikers. Staring at the malevolent pile of sharp and dirty instruments arrayed on the table in front of me, I wish (not for the first time this evening) that I had taken a bit more time to get to know him before I let him in the car.
The chill bite of the chains and strangle manacles cut into my skin a little deeper as he locks the last one in place. In the back of my mind, a random thought expresses surprise that I can feel the metal when I’ve lost any ability to move my extremities. I should think I would be numb.
The near empty syringe is sitting next to the decaying bladed objects holds a last drop of the strange yellow liquid suspended from the needle tip, waiting to drop to the table surface below.
The hitchhiker walks around to seat himself in front of me, just to the left of his impromptu triage center. The look in his eyes is apologetic, resolved, and cold, cold steel.
“It has to be done,” he says. His left hand extends out over the tray, hovering for a moment. In the stillness, I can hear a phone ringing. It’s far away, but getting closer.
My chest lurches. Wild hearbeats. Help. Help is coming.
——————————————
Help, indeed. Feeling around in the darkness on the floor next to my bed for the flashing light of my cel phone, I can’t shake the feeling of dread left over from my dream.
Phone in hand, I flop back onto the bed to start my day with a nice depressing piece of news.
My aunt is dead.
Not only is she dead, but she killed herself. Messily. Very messily.
I hadn’t seen her in years, and I can’t say that it was unexpected. She had been fighting a drug problem of one sort or another for the vast majority of her years. Everyone expected her to end her own life, but we all thought it would be with pills and Popov in a pay-by-the-week hotel room with an old Johnny Cash album stuck on repeat.
No such luck.
My Aunt isn’t really my aunt. Even when she was alive, I mean. She may as well have been though, as she raised me as much as my mother ever did.
Somewhere along the line, if you are lucky, you make a friend. Then that friend sticks with you for a while, and then a while longer, and then before you know it, you have some sort of unofficial heterosexual life partnership. I’ve convinced myself that I have made a friend like that at one point or another. They never stuck.
My Aunt and my mom were college roommates who never really figured out that they weren’t joined at the hip. They graduated, married, raised children who in turn are raising children and somehow managed to stay as close as if they were on bunk beds the whole time. When we had family reunions, my Aunt came with her family too. When my mom was busy, my Aunt would pick me up from school. That’s just the way it worked.
She went out for a score with her latest boyfriend last night, late. The details are sketchy but this much I do know. Driving down the freeway, my Aunt opened the car door and rolled out. She was immediately hit by the car traveling close behind them, killing her. The cars then collided sending the rest of the occupants to the hospital.
Not a pretty picture.
My mom rolls off the story with ice calm. I know it hasn’t hit her yet, and I’m glad to be a thousand miles away when I think of her identifying the body.
My mom is driving the 2+ hours to the morgue where the body is being held, and then going to my Aunts house to do what she can for the survivors; her children and grandchildren.
I don’t think that anyone every pictures things like this. I mean, if you knew that this was how your friendship would end, would anyone ever make friends? Does a life time of fun and fancy free really balance the scale when this much shit gets shoveled onto the other side?
How do we leverage our relationships against the storm of Deaths indifference?
Is this where acceptance becomes best practice? Just take your licks and shut your mouth, or you’ll get a boot lodged in it. Eat your porridge, bitch.
I almost think this is the easy way out. No long slow decline in health. No weeks or months in the hospital. No dementia, no guilt.
Click. Bang.
I dunno. I don’t have any answers today. Only more questions.
On a long enough timeline. The survival rate for everyone drops to zero. ~ Chuck Palahniuk
Sad. Has the boyfriend been arrested yet?
They’re not sure if anyone else involved is going to live. He stopped and tried to turn (on the freeway. smart) and the other car hit him.
Wow. That sux. Sorry you have to deal with this. I wish there was something I could do to help. Just remember that not all friendships or lives end that way – they don’t have to. Although we never know what life will throw at us, or when it will end, we can determine how we will live and who we will be. Everyone has a choice. Your aunt made a choice… It is tragic, more so because the effects of her actions (and that of her boyfriend) are so far reaching. But aren’t most of our actions far reaching, whether we acknowledge it or not?
Life is fragile and precious, intrinsical and intertwined – fleeting at times, but lingering in memories. You’ll see all your loved ones (and the not-so-loved ones, too) again. Find peace in that knowledge – it doesn’t end here. Things only get better after this life.
Oh and what was with your dream? That was FREAKY! You haven’t been watching any horror movies or reading horror books lately, have you? If you have – you should probably stop. ;-P
I had a freakish dream last night too that involved a car crash… That after my filling falling out (in the dream, not reality) and my dentist telling me that it’s not worth repairing, that it has to be pulled out. I could feel it hurting. Scary.
I’m very sorry for your loss as well as your mom’s. I recently got news of my great aunt dying (though nothing as dramatic as your story) and such news always makes me think what I would do if someone truly close to me were to die, let alone die so terribly. I honestly can’t tell. On the one hand, a friendship that strong and lasting is truly something to cherish. But what happens when it ends? Is it better in the end to isolate ourselves from everyone and everything to avoid the iminent heartache? Is it truly better to have loved and lost?
Not much comfort here, sorry. All I can do is send hugs.
*hugs*
I’m so sorry to hear of your aunt’s tragic death. May your warm memories of her comfort you at this time of sadness.
It is better to have loved and lost than not to have loved at all. I think people come in and out of our lives for a reason. Whether they stick around for 1 day or for 50 years there is always something you can learn from them. I’ve had friends that have been around since Grade 1, friendships that only lasted 1 year then abruptly ended, close family members die, friends that have wandered in and out of my life. I’m saddened when they leave my life, but I’ve cherished the memories of my time with them. I’m thankful for what they taught me, for lending me a helping hand, for the laughter, the tears, for lifting me up when I was down, the hugs, the long talks, the comforting words and sound advice.
There is no good that comes from building up a wall around yourself to protect yourself from the hurt that may come upon you. If you don’t experience the pain, how can you truly enjoy the beauty and the goodness of life?