I sat quietly in the passenger's seat of my cousin, Noel's little Mazda, enjoying the subtle hum of tires marrying street, as a pop sensation sings her heart out on the radio.
We're on the move toward some small town in northern Louisiana, and with every mile marked I feel more uneasy. I rolled the window down midway and was immediately greeted by the scent of fall. I imagine the leaves are beginning to turn and dry underneath the warm glow of the autumn sun. Just then, as if by some cosmic cue, a gust of wind caressed my face in passing. I inhaled deeply, and smiled as my wavy hair was sent into frenzy. It'll be a tangled mess of copper strands at roads end, but I can't be bothered with caring. In this moment I feel free. I've been liberated from this digging seatbelt, from this handicapped mind, and all my scars; the deep ones beneath my smooth surface.

"Reese?" a voice somewhere in the background spoke. I felt myself being grounded again. That pesky thing called reality was weighing me down.

"Reese, snap the hell out of it!" Noel elbowed me gently, though I could sense her irritation. She has a thing about being ignored. "You haven't heard one word I've said, have you?"

"No. But I've come back to earth. Though, I honestly can't say in good shape. I think I've fused with this seat. I am one with the Mazda, and thus have significantly reduced its value!" I made my best mad scientist impression.

"You're so beyond lame." She laughed genuinely. A hearty sound that I believed could warm the coldest disposition. Or maybe it was just me.
Noel is more than my cousin—she's my best friend, my sister, and on more than one occasion a mother figure, although, she's only two years older than me. She feels it necessary to fret. Even before the accident which rendered me blind, she would fuss over me like the doting mother I never knew. So it's important to me to put her mind at ease. I need her to believe that I'm okay, so that she can feel free to be okay too. Life can be so messy, right?

Two years ago it seemed anything but messy. I was a fresh-faced college student with an incredible future set just beyond the horizon. My high school sweetheart, Micah and I shared a cozy (a realtor term for super cramped) apartment in San Marcos, Texas. Somehow we made it work.
I always thought Micah was the embodiment of passion. Everything he did was fueled by a firm desire, especially when it came to loving me. It was revitalizing. I never had a chance. There we were ready to fully embrace life, but little did we know life had a hidden agenda.
Two years ago on an average night in the middle of July the world fell dark. We were driving home from my father's house; he and his new wife we're expecting their first child. Everyone was so thrilled. It couldn't get any better.
There was a serene calm within the cab of Micah's crimson Chevy S 10. (Man, he loved that thing.) I remember looking over at him, my fingers lost in his jet curls. I was all smiles. I slowly watched his handsome face, and that dimpled smile I craved change from bliss to a mask of shock and horror in mere seconds. Before I could see the problem for myself, we made impact. There was a deafening crash; the sound of screeching tires, metal being compacted violently, and the shattering of glass. Everything seemed to be moving in slow motion. We were upside down before I could scream, and being jostled painfully about as the truck flipped a number of times for what seemed like hours. Micah shouted something to me, but I couldn't hear him clearly. The last thing I felt was his hand grasping mine. And then there was nothing. Only black.

I woke up in a hospital bed two days later with a couple of broken bones and the loss of my sight. Every time I asked about Micah someone would pat my arm and tell me how fortunate I was to be alive. He was gone. I tried to deny it, but I knew it was the truth. I could feel him missing.
The doctor said my blindness is purely psychological because of the traumatic experience. Deep within my mind I simply flipped a switch. What would be the point of sight without Micah around? He hadn't survived the wreck, but I managed to walk away with a few wires crossed. I couldn't make sense of it. I still can't. I collapsed inward and was lost for a long time. If it wasn't for Noel I'd still be hiding inside the cave I'd craved within myself. I owe her so much.

A tear ran down the apple of my cheek. Just as quickly as it fell, it was wiped away. "Keep it together, chick."

"Are you hungry? 'Cause I'm starvin' Marvin over here." Noel shifted in her seat and groaned. The sound reminded me of so many of those zombie flick grunts that I laughed aloud. "What's so funny? My starvation is no laughing matter!" I laughed louder; a foreign sound in my ears.

"Yes, I could go for a bite." I snorted.
"You've got a bad case of cabin fever, sister." I swear I could almost feel her smile. "Well, we're fifteen minutes outside of Bon Temp! Are you excited?"

My stomach rolled. I hadn't been totally honest with Noel. My decision to tag along was made out of fear, rather than a healthy need for a bit of normality. To put it crudely: I was scared shitless. Scared of being alone, scared of falling back into that damn hole, and mostly scared of leaving the place I spent my best years. But I had to sever the ties or I knew I'd be swallowed up by guilt.

I nodded after a while. "You can do this."

"Good, because we're here, baby!" She squealed joyfully as I felt the car swerve from right to left beneath me. My chest tightened, my breath was caught somewhere in my throat, and I noticed I was clawing at the door. A flood of emotions and visions hit me like a tidal wave, threatening to take me down with the undertow. Noel let out a sudden sharp gasp and corrected the wheel.

"I'm such a screw up, Reese! I'm so sorry. I forgot. How could I forget? I got carried away…" I could hear a sob hidden in her voice. I took a deep breath while searching for her hand; I found it shakily gripped on the stirring wheel and patted it.

"I'm okay. It just surprised me. Don't be sorry! It's okay. I'm fine. Just being a pussy, y'know!" I smiled a big comforting smile—at least I hope I did. "No harm done."

She sighed. "We're both pussies. It's a family thing or something." She laughed weakly, trying to obtain some of our previous lightness. I joined her.

"I don't know about you, but I could use a drink!" I slapped my knee. "Note to self: Stop being a delicate flower, you spas."

"I'm right with you on that." We drove for a while before Noel spotted a place she could deem worthy.
"Ah, here we go! Merlotte's. Grab a beer and a burger out here in the sticks. Sound good?"

"I've never heard of a better plan." At this present time, I really hadn't.