Intersections
He crosses the road, still trying to figure out how to navigate the town he’s called home for some two years now. There is never much to do here, the most exciting thing that happens usually being an ambulance or police car wailing down the street. But there are always these beautiful tall green trees anywhere you look, and it’s reasonably peaceful.
Dressed purposely to impress his friends on the first day of high school, he wears his favourite khaki green button up shirt, vintage black Nike hoodie, light blue slightly ripped jeans, all complimented with a brand new pair of triple black Nike Vapourmax 1.0 shoes. With his new haircut, he looks like a completely different person. He’s not wholly attractive though, as he has a rather large nose with a little unappealing mustache forming right underneath, and his lips part ways to reveal a cordial smile with a set of shiny blue braces.
The light changes as he’s crossing, and all too soon, cars are rushing by him. Finding himself in the middle of this chaotic intersection, he looks like a lost river searching for an ocean. One whips by just barely in front of him. Another zooms by behind him. He can see the traffic light reflecting from the car in the window across the street. But one car surges directly for him.
He tries to dodge it but it’s moving too fast. The metal is ever so smooth under his fingertips as he tries to roll off the front. Then he’s flying.
The sky is unbearably blue, completely free of any and all clouds. There is a moment of tranquility, as if time has frozen. Sound ceases to exist. Then, he hits the ground, the pain slowly seeping in as the adrenaline fades away and sound returns. He is hurt, he processes, but not terribly. Scrapes accompanied with blood marks his hands and knees, and although he doesn’t know it yet, his cervical spine will never be the same.
“Hey! Why did you run into the car?” a women’s voice screams. It is the driver, and another man tries to comfort him as he calls 9-1-1. Only one women bothers to ask if he’s ok, to call his parents, or ask if there is anything that she can do. As his long black hair sways in front of his eyes, the boy stares, trying to figure out where he has seen this familiar face before, maybe a relative. He just draw...
