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Non-fiction / Crash.ed: Dead & Living It
Vicenza, Italy. The barracks on base.
Sometime in September, 2002
I don’t know why I asked her to read me my tarot. It wasn’t really something I believed in but I really had nothing better to do. I’ve always been kind of curious about that stuff anyway. The opportunity to go to one never occurred anywhere that I lived; we just didn’t have that kind of crap going on where I was from. Every time it showed up in movies though my curiosity about what mine might say was always aroused. Now, here was my chance to get it done for free by neighbor’s girlfriend.
First she laid all the cards face down and told me to mix them around in a circular motion. After that I was told to pick three cards and put them to the side. She took those cards and flipped them over one by one.
To me the cards all looked innocent enough. But the words that came out of her mouth were kind of unsettling. Not one thing that she “predicted” had an ounce of good fortune to bestow upon me.
The first thing she told me was that somebody I was in a close relationship with would break away from me. That this was going to happen in the near future.
The second thing she told me was that something very bad was going to happen to me at the end of the year and it was going to change my life forever.
The third thing she told me was that I was never going to be happy ever again. Not for the rest of my life.
I had good laugh about that one. It was nonsense of course. Who believed in this stuff? I’d have to be crazy to think that any of this stuff was going to happen.
Even when my girlfriend at the time Valeria broke up with me I didn’t give the tarot cards much thought. I was devastated, yes, but oh, well shit happens. The cards didn’t predict that. It was just happenstance; just coincidence. Besides, I kind of digged the X-ray tech, Andrea, that worked in the clinic now anyway. She was something else.
Trento, Italy; the Swiss Alps
29th December, 2002
I could not snowboard worth shit. If I kept this up I was going to break my wrists or go off the side of a mountain. There weren’t any walls or barriers that would stop you. The only thing that kept you from plummeting to your death was skill or…I forgot what they told me. This wasn’t working. There was no way that I was walking down the mountain either. Not from way up here. Then I remembered the Winter Olympics. They had this new event called the Skeleton or something. I don’t know but I knew how they did it. They lie on their stomachs on top of a board and shot down the mountain.
Sounded good to me but first I needed a beer. I dropped my back pack onto the ground and fished one out of the side-pocket. Using the bottle opener attached to my belt loop I popped open the Heineken and chugged it and when I was finished I stashed the empty in the front pouch with the others. I was pretty drunk. No wonder I couldn’t snowboard. I put my backpack back on and pointed the board for the bottom of the mountain. Lying on my stomach I grabbed the ground like I was going to paddle for a wave. Then I pushed off and I was sailing down the mountain fast as hell.
I was shooting past people almost knocking over a person every twenty-five yards I went. I was cursed out in all kinds of languages but mostly Italian. No worries, like they’d ever see me again. Once and awhile I had to stop because I was going way too fast. Everything was a blur and I couldn’t control myself as it was. It was fun though. It was real fun.
I think I reached the last hill before the end of that run when I decided to wait for the others. They were still up there really snowboarding. At first they were ahead of me because they actually knew what they were doing. I knew though that now, I was the one in the lead. There was no way they made it down here this early.
I decided to sit down, smoke, think, and drink beer. I thought about Andrea up there on the mountain. She was something else that girl. A tiny, bouncy ball of sunshine that couldn’t help but smile was the best way that I could describe her. I dug her a whole bunch. That girl was the out of this world. The only thing was: Did I have the balls to ask her out?
I thought about and I wondered if I wanted to risk our friendship and the humiliation that came with rejection if she said no. What would she tell the people at work if I asked her out and she had knocked me to the curb? Everybody would laugh at me, call me a joke. I didn’t know if any of that was true but it weighed heavy on my mind. It drove me nuts.
Then since it was so close to New Year’s Eve a light bulb sputtered to life over my drunken head. That’d be my New Year resolution. I was going to ask Andrea out and I didn’t care what happened from there.
I mean why not? It was no big deal. I had what six months left in the unit anyway. I was going to go to Washington to a new unit, a war fighting unit and I was going to be sent off to Afghanistan. Everybody that was going to new units was going to a war fighting unit and they were most likely going to go overseas. What if I went over there and something happened and I never knew what Andrea thought of me? Bullshit, I was going to ask her.
My life had finally taken a turn to where I was happy with myself. I was happy to live. There was nothing holding me back anymore except for my little irrational fears of rejection. I had everything I could ever want.
My bank account was huge. I was putting away three hundred a month for two and a half years now and I had nearly ten thousand dollars in savings. I had just reenlisted for m first time in the Army and I loved my job. What other career paid you to live in Italy? I was a happy camper. Finally, my life was right.
About an hour later Andrea and Melissa came down the mountain and sat next to me. Melissa didn’t drink any beer since she was driving but Andrea and I shared the rest of the ones in my pack. We took turns taking pictures with the disposable camera I had as we waited for Michael, Melissa’s boyfriend to finish doing his thing.
When it was time to go we hauled our rental equipment to the tour bus that took everyone else up to the trip. We decided to drive up there because who wanted to take a bus on a three or more hour journey with a bunch of loud ass soldiers and their families?
Everyone put the stuff they had rented onto the bus and made sure that it was secure. For some reason Melissa and Mike was arguing. I looked at Andrea and smile, secretly hoping that soon we’d be able to have one of these lover’s quarrels.
“Do you think we should take the bus and leave them alone?” Andrea asked me. I looked at them again and turned back to her. I shook my head.
“Nah, they’ll get over it. They’re always arguing. What’s this the third time today?” Andrea laughed and hit me on the shoulder. As far as I was concerned it meant as much to me as a kiss. Just a simple touch like that made me feel like the world was mine.
Melissa and Mike eventually did stop fighting and managed to do so before we go to the car. We were all famished and grateful that we had packed sandwiches and left them in the trunk. It was so cold outside that we didn’t have to worry about them going bad for being out so long so we pulled them out and got moving. I hopped in the seat behind the driver seat. To be safe Mike drove first so Melissa could eat. They would change switchover when Melissa was finished eating.
I had finished my sandwich quickly and I decided that I was going to take a nap. Looking up at the road ahead one more time before I closed my eyes I noticed that we were going through a tunnel. It was so dark except for the glow of the sun coming out of the other side. I shut my eyes and fell asleep.
January 7th, 2003
I opened up my eyes wondering if we were home yet. Instead of the interior of a car filled with people I there was a ceiling. I blinked trying to take it in. Where was I? Ah, we must have gone out and I got wasted again. I was probably at Andrea’s place sleeping on the couch. Wouldn’t be the first time I overindulged and had been in this position.
The next thing I know I feel a gigantic spider in my mouth. A big, hairy spider was in my mouth and I freaked out. I tried to move but I couldn’t. Why couldn’t I move?
I heard footsteps and then standing over me was a man in a white coat. I’ve never seen this man before in my life. There was something around his neck. It was a silver snake or something. For some reason my fear of the spider abated and…I had no feelings. My curiosity level spiked.
The man looked at me for what felt like a long time and then he finally spoke. “Car accident. American’s fault. Drunk driving. Two of your friend die. One live.” Then he turns around and goes away. My mind went blank. When it came back the spider in my mouth returned.
My eyes bulged and then all of the sudden everything hit me at once.
There was a tube coming out of my mouth. There was in fact a wad of something coarse in there as well stuck to the roof. My left arm is in a cast There’s something near my shoulder feeding a thick tube into my skin. My pelvis is being held together by four spike and what looks like two iron bars. I’ve got four tubes in my stomach, two on each side either putting stuff in or pulling stuff out. Two of the tubes are filled with white fluids, the other two brown. Last but not least there was a cast on my right foot. Out of the toes in that foot were pins or something.
I was fucked. Something was amiss. I didn’t feel any pain at all. I should be feeling pain I thought. I tried my best to look around the room. Immediately I saw people that looked like they were near death everywhere. A sea of the almost dyng.
I closed my eyes and then I opened them again. I looked around the room. It was the same except next to me reading a book was a glowing little girl. She turned to me and put a yellow finger up to her lips and as if to tell me to shush.
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Sometimes, the hardest thing to do is tell a story that has actually happened to us. As writers, we need to step back and tell the story as if it happened to someone else…yet we also must evoke the emotions within the reader and make them feel like it is happening to them.
The main thing you need to do, is slow your piece down. Right now, it reads like a summary with tiny bits of detail thrown in. Pace it a bit more. You may have to embellish on the story a bit in order to do this, but your readers will forgive you .
Try reading it out loud as it is on the paper. Or have a friend read it to you. This will help you pick out the places that are rushing it.
I wish you the best of luck.
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