I’m Sorry II

"You promise?" Sammy asks, still holding back his tears.

"I pinky promise," I say extending my pinky to lock in with theirs before ruffling their hair and wiping their tears, "Now stop your crying, no one's dead and real men only cry at funerals." I laugh.

Sammy pouts before saying indignantly, "You were crying too!"

"Hmph, that I was. I just missed you guys so much…" I say wiping the rest of the tears from my eyes, before asking, "But… What happened? Why are we in the hospital?"

"Don't worry, Baby. The doctor said the concussion could result in some memory loss, especially in regard to the accident. We hit a slick spot on the road coming back from the board meeting and careened into oncoming traffic and got t-boned by a car on your side. Luckily an ambulance was nearby… But…" Mom pauses before covering Sammy's ears and lowering her voice.

"The paramedic said… That you died on the way to the hospital, but they were able to resuscitate you. They warned me that you might have brain damage or that you might not wake up." Mom says before wiping her eyes quickly.

"But you're up and the doctors say you're on track for a full recovery, once your leg, arm, and ribs are fully healed." Mom says reassuringly.

It was then that I notice not only the pain from my ribs was keeping me restrained, but that my right hand was in a cast and my left leg was also firmly secured in a cast. But this doesn't seem right… I was the one who barely got off without a scratch during that accident, and there wasn't a slick spot but mom lost control of the car near a cliff's edge.

There was no ambulance, I was stuck with them for hours… Slowly watching them die…

I feel tears start dripping down my face before mom wipes them away, trying to comfort me, "Aw, baby, don't cry. Everything is going to be alright and once you begin physical therapy, you'll be good as new."

"I-It's not that… I'm just glad you both are okay. I'm sorry…" I mumble.

"Baby, there's nothing to be sorry about. All you need to do is focus on getting better and we'll be here every step of the way." Mom says gripping my left hand. "And I've got your schoolwork right here. You don't have to do it right away, but I thought it'd be a good thing to keep your mind active once you woke up."

"Schoolwork?" I asked confused before catching my reflection in the glass on the window in my room to realize I'm back to when I had just turned 17 and what's even weirder… I see the bridge I just jumped off of… And it's painted blue?

How long was I out? I turn to my mom, "Mom, when did they paint that bridge blue?"

It's then that a deep look of concern and fear flashes through her eyes before she hesitantly says, "Baby, it's always been blue… Maybe we should get the doctor?"