"Our greatest glory is not in never falling, but in rising every time we fall."
When you fall, the world seems to slow down with you.
It feels like a revolving clock, ticking at its numbers and placing you one inch closer to insanity. It rings in your ears and your heart beats in an uncontrollable frenzy, and you swear that it's about to jump right out of your chest.
But yet, you just float either way.
I've dreamt of falling, and pretty much anyone who's had a general sense of fear has too. You know that feeling, right? That lurching sensation in your stomach, making you hold your breath since it becomes so hard to inhale oxygen whatsoever. You keep falling, screaming for help... but no one is there to help you. It feels so real, and you can't help but brace yourself for the inevitable death that will occur once you hit the ground.
But then there's the moment you wake up, heart pounding, beads of sweat running down your forehead... you would swear that nothing even happened.
And it didn't.
But I wasn't dreaming this time. There was no end to the awful lurching feeling in my gut, no sense that I was going to finally hit the ground and wake up...
I just kept falling slowly, my hair flowing with the wind and the darkness surrounding me.
I could hear voices briefly in my fall, they sounded familiar and urgent, but to be honest the more I kept falling the more memories started to fade away from my existence.
"Is she going to wake up anytime soon?"
That was the first voice I remember, it was the sound of a distressed woman... she sounded like she was crying.
"It depends... she's experienced tremendous blunt force trauma to her prefrontal cortex, the part of the brain that controls most of her short-term memory."
This was a man now, but he was unfamiliar and serious in his tone while speaking to the woman.
"You're not saying that she'll be completely brain dead after this point are you, Doctor Whale?"
That was another man's voice, but far more familiar. There was also an unexpected pause in conversation.
"Well that's the good news... she will be functional and fully able to do everyday things if she finds the strength to wake up."
I heard a sigh of relief coming from the two other people in the room around me, but then I the doctor seemed to grunt in another revelation to tell the family.
"But the bad news is that she will most likely not remember anything that happened in the past 15 years... The long term memory of everyday things and general problem solving and what she learned in her school years will remain intact, but she won't remember anyone she met within this year span."
There was silence once more, and it became so quiet a pin could have dropped and the sound would have shaken the entire area.
"So Henry... Neal... she won't remember them?"
"She'll probably barely remember Neal, but not as her husband. And Henry..."
There were no more words exchanged after this point, there was only the sounds of cries and agony.
"I'll give you two a moment to decide whether or not you'll take her off life support."
I couldn't hear anything else after this, everything else just became blank noise... the falling continued, and there was no bottom. I knew that I was dying, now... there was no hope anymore.
Everything in my vision became blurry, the sounds I once heard in my head were starting to lessen.
I saw flashes of Henry as a baby, me holding him in my arms for the very first time... his huge smile staring at me, and mine welcoming him into the world.
I saw Neal, how happy he was to see me after I had given birth to our first son, and the pride in his eyes as he kissed me telling me over and over that he loved me more than Tallahassee could ever do for him.
I saw myself driving the bug, dirty and running on its last chunks of miles that It managed to pull through after all these years...
I turned a corner, seeing only blackness in front of the headlights...
Until there was lights...
A window shield...
My body sprawled across the car...
And then there was nothing...
Nothing but blackness.
And as I closed my eyes...
I lost myself with them.