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conflict V
Picking up from where we left off in Part IV; also be sure to read Part III. And Part II, and Part I before that.

You find the door with your forehead. A resonating “Thud!”; your vision is suddenly dancing with thousands of brightly colored spots. You pick yourself up from off the ground, opening the door. You look to your left, then to your right. You cannot see anything; your surroundings are consumed in the darkness.

Feeling along the wall you make your way to your right. Hoping to find some escape from the now furious Stan, whom is back in the room screaming unintelligibly.

A few steps further and you find a door. Silently slipping through you discover yourself in a place similar to the one you just left. Only this room is brightly lit. The light is emanating from a figure sitting at the table. Across from this person sits a little girl. It is the little girl you struck with your car. And there stood Visitor, or at least, this person looked like Visitor.

Behind them is a gaping tear. It is a brightly lit tear, and is hovering just beyond the table; through it you see a fisheye view of the bus scene.

Without hesitating you run toward the group. In two surprisingly graceful bounds you plant one foot on an empty chair, than on the table, and you are soaring through the air toward this portal.

Passing through, the portal snaps to a pinhole. Cutting off the surprised shouts of those in the room behind you. If you had stopped to ask, you might have learned that this portal was intended for the girl you had killed.

Being torn from life in such an unfair manner, she was granted a second entrance into life. Unfortunately this portal you just passed through was her chance. Something she would now be without.

You are once again in your car. You glimpse firefighters who are feverishly working the Jaws of Life in your favor. This all seems too surreal; you pass out.

The world around you is in chaos as the medics carefully move your body from the car. The rush to the hospital is a blur. You vaguely hear the sirens, but they don’t register.

Months pass by. Like a movie in fast forward, you see each day pass. Nurses visiting, taking your readings, feeding you, emptying your catheter. It seems to go on forever. One day you are moved to a new hospital. This hospital looks less like a hospital and more like a home. You have a new set of nurses attending to your needs.

You are unable to talk, but you hear those around you. Yet you don’t always understand what they are saying. You understand the words, but you struggle to determine their meaning.

Your face has ceased to display emotion. The tissue damage incurred by the accident has forever frozen your face in a blank meaningless stare. It is in this state that you live out your days. Seething with frustration, you struggle to cope with your surroundings. Feeling a constant nagging of perception, but never quite comprehending.

And so it was, the end.

Title image used with permission and courtesy of Epiphany, check out the original here.

Read it in the bathroom! Print It! Read it in the bathroom! Print It!

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