Page 208 - Reason To Sing by Kelita Haverland

Reason To Sing

This is insanity. All I do is dream of escape.
The endless miles of prairie highway groan on and on. I am
lulled into a strange submission even as my brain rages with
fire. But then suddenly my attention is jolted into action as we
approach a slight bend in the road. Not too many of those out
here on this prairie highway. Something weird is happening. I
can feel the van beginning to swerve. I turn the steering wheel
one way. Then the other. Shit! There is no connection between
where I am steering and where the van is taking me. It’s like I’m
skidding on a cloud.
Sliding, fishtailing, weaving a drunken trail. Seconds turn
into eternity. My hands hold the wheel in a death-grip. Teeth
clenched, panicked and fear-stricken, I scream to Hudson,
“Hold on! This is it!”
At 60 miles per hour, that van takes flight and soars head-
first over the eight-foot embankment to the ditch below. Rolling
again and again and then BOOM! We come to a deafening halt.
I am completely disoriented. I feel like we are still spinning.
Suspended, dangling upside down, blood rushes to my head.
What the hell just happened? Am I alive or dead?
“Hudson, Hudson! Are you okay?” He doesn’t respond.
Ever so gently, I begin moving my body parts. I can feel my
arms and legs. I can hear the whirring of the motor. The gritty
taste of dirt fills my mouth. It takes a few seconds for my addled
brain to compute. I am definitely alive. My seatbelt is tightly
bound around my left shoulder and waist. Shards of glass are
everywhere.
Seemingly out of nowhere, Hudson appears and comes to
my rescue. Obviously, he is okay. Everything is in slow motion.
He carefully undoes my seatbelt and lowers me down. I shake
all the tiny pieces of glass from my clothes and hair. Now I am
shaking too. Uncontrollably.

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