The day began to come to an end, as the atmosphere refused to warn us of what lay beyond. July 7, 2025 — we were returning from the gallery across the neighbouring town. She had finally agreed to go, as she was going to be free for the week. I observed lots of the paintings with various theories of what was going on in the artist's minds as I noted every detail. She, on the other hand, was stuffing her mouth with her favourite snack.
There was no storm, no traffic; the road was free. I could only hear the soft whir of the engine, accompanied by my car radio playing our favourite jazz mixtape. Her laughter echoed in the background as she continued to tease me:
"You look at those things like they breathe… or do they?" she said.
I stole a quick glance at her smiling — an elegant charm with curly hair.
"No, they don't," I replied. But I really wish they could. I need more time with them, as a lot of questions keep popping in my head.
"Of course you would like that." She rolled her eyes, as she always did, pretending not to care about the statement I made.
She had just turned 20, and it showed in her height. I was 23, tall enough to feel confident about my stature.
"You know…" She tilted her head towards me, and I could already taste her strawberry gloss coming from her lips. "I really don't understand a single thing you explained back there in the gallery room."
I laughed as she reduced the volume of the music. My eyes wandered from her captivating gaze and lost smile to her checkerboard-designed dress. She was a beautiful mix of races, a beauty that could not be defined. One hand rested on the wheel, and the other found comfort on her thigh as I responded, keeping my eyes on the road:
"That's because you kept looking at the ice cream stand… and trying to hit my bum."
Her fingers drew my hand that was on her thigh closer, until I was already feeling the curve of her hip. She shifted closer.
"You've got my attention now. Maybe you should teach me again. Right here."
For a few seconds I turned back to her captivating, teasing half-smile. I could already feel my finger resting on her hip curve. I leaned in as my mouth greeted hers, grazing each other — a kiss that deepened as her hand slid against my jaw. My hand held her thigh, roaming softly over the warm skin beneath her gown.
She smirked gently against my lips, and in that moment it felt as if the universe had conspired to bring us together, as if our ancestors sang songs of praise. I finally won… what next does life have for us?
Our hearts kept beating in sync, as if they were communicating with each other. The taste of her strawberry gloss lingered on my lips as the spark in her eyes filled the car. My hand tangled in hers on the control panel.
Then came the scraping sound. Tires skidded against the road, and flashes of light erupted as the world twisted into a violent blur of glass and steel.
The impact roared through me — a sound too loud to be from this earth. My body slammed against the seatbelt, and breath forced its way out of my chest. I felt the steel collapsing upon itself, the car twisting, windows bursting into multiple glittering pieces that fell like cruel stars.
As the car began to release smoke to the heavens in search of help, I saw her. Jane, my love. Her face was faint, bruises settling on her trembling lips as she struggled to whisper my name, reaching her hand toward me.
I tried. God, I tried. But my hands refused to obey, as if they were on strike. It was only an inch between us, yet our hands became strangers, refusing to meet.
"Jay… I'm scared," she breathed. "Don't leave me."
Her voice slipped away, and something in me broke—yet it wasn't a bone.
My vision darkened as I opened my mouth in search of my last words, but none came. A ringing sensation filled my ears as the radio played Elvis Presley's 1961 hit "Can't Help Falling in Love."
Then, the environment hushed, until sirens flashed with red and white vehicles. The sound of footsteps and commands took over the chaotic scene.
"She's losing a lot of blood!" someone screamed.
The darkness continued to fight me, and I felt an urge to win. But my best wasn't enough, and my eyes drew shut against the havoc of confusion.
And then came... the Pause.
Days went by, but it felt like a minute as I started to feel the earth. A gentle breeze rest on my skin. The beeping of the hospital machine and air conditioner began to get louder, mixed with the smell of antiseptics in the room.
My eyes slowly cracked open, and the white ceiling above me was too white, which irritated my vision. Blinking twice to clear the haze, the blur sharpened. It was 10:07 p.m. as the clock above kept ticking, and pain drew from my chest and head, forcing a groan from my throat as my body felt empty.
A lady entered the room, and I could tell she was a nurse. She wore a calming colour—white, with touches of blue. Her shoes were properly polished and sat well on the ground, which silenced her footsteps. Her hair was pulled back into a neat ponytail, merging with a comforting face and a smile that seemed to put me at ease.
Her eyes were on the clipboard, but as she raised her head and met my gaze, her expression was sympathetic.
"You're awake," she whispered, trying not to spook me.
I tried to reply, but my tongue resisted. Carbon dioxide flowed from my lips and forced the words out:
"...Jane?"
An unwanted silence filled the room as time stood still. I knew what she wanted to say before her answer.
"I'm sorry," she gasped, the words breaking along with her voice. "She didn't survive."
My heart, which already seemed weak, raced faster, pounding in my chest. Tears dropped from my cheek to my lips. I tasted the salty flavour of agony.
I turned away, staring at the wall, away from the presence of the nurse. Yet she remained, standing there even in this cruellest of moments.
The pause in between felt like an eternity