Once upon a time is a stupid way of starting a story. It implies that everything after is going to be okay. It implies that everything after once upon a time wraps up into a cute little bow, with shiny red wrapping. It implies that the main characters do not end the story with a broken heart.
It implies that everyone makes it out alive.
That's not how life happens.
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It was a Tuesday. I remember because that was the day that I had my biology final.
Everything was going okay. Everything was fine. I woke up on time, finished my final with minimal crying, and went to grab lunch with friends – which is also when shit just so happened to hit the fan.
We were headed into the downtown area. Cafeteria food just wasn't cutting it anymore. We needed food that had flavor, and was filling, and, you know, looked like actual food.
So, we were driving. Phil has lived in town for years, so he could handle the congested traffic with ease. John was his co-pilot: an extra set of eyes for traffic and assholes that cut you off with no regard for your life.
I was in the back with Erica and Morgan. We were passing the aux cord back and forth, no care in the world. All of us had rocked (or at least we hoped) our finals, and Phil and John were operating, so we weren't paying attention.
We didn't notice that John was texting and Phil was looking out of the right side of the car, trying to merge into the other line. We didn't notice the blue Niisan coming up on our left. We didn't notice that it was sliding into our lane or that the tail end was spinning to the front. We didn't feel it – not until it collided with the passenger side.
I didn't notice the screams or the pain in my left leg. I felt the car rolling, but I didn't notice that Erica was out of her seat. I didn't notice that she hadn't been buckled in. The car only had two seatbelts in the back. I should have given her mine.
Everything slowed down, after the initial shock had passed.
I felt everything. The warm blood against my skin, the glass grazing against my neck... Erica's fist in my gut as she tumbles through the cavity of the car.... Morgan's screams vibrating my chest.
The car came to a halt, upside down. I was okay, for the most part. I crawled out, got my bearings. Called 911.
"What's your emergency?... Help is on the way.... Please, remain calm...."
They didn't come in time.
Erica's body was halfway out of the windshield. She wasn't moving. I couldn't see John. Phil was enveloped in the white fabric of the airbag. Morgan was still screaming.
I could hear the sirens, echoing off the hills.
I got Morgan out. Phil was okay. I finally found John.
He didn’t make it.
He could have, if I knew how to do CPR. He could have. Erica could have.
All of us could have made it, but we didn’t.
