Disclaimer: I do not own KHR.
Edited: 2/25/2015
Her body is light and heavy and the world is shifting, twisting. The sky looms up above –below?- bright lights glittering and she forgets to breathe, forgets everything because she falls up and up and up into that darkbright sky and-
Prologue
"Life is pleasant. Death is peaceful. It's the transition that's troublesome." -Isaac Asimov
In the beginning, there were two newborns. Their skin was pink, their eyes were screwed shut and fine tufts of raven hair were already emerging on their mostly bare heads. Swaddled in thick blankets and nestled in the arms of their mother, a feeling of pure bliss overcame the discomfort of the strange, cold place that had overtaken their dark and comfortable world and their cries ceased. Standing over the three, mother and children, their father smiled and gently squeezed his wife's shoulders. The family of two-turned-four seemed to have a bright future ahead of them. One of them wasn't so sure.
. . .
I'll make myself as clear as I possibly can; I died.
A car shot a red light when I was crossing the street and hit me. It was not, in any way, instantaneous and it definitely wasn't numbed by adrenaline. I experienced every instant up close and personal; the pain of torn muscles and broken bones, all awkward angles on the hard asphalt, to my dying breath. I can still taste copper in my mouth and the absolutely awful sensation of struggling for breath only to gag on the thick, syrupy liquid bubbling in my throat. Even more horrifying was the knowledge of what had just happened to me. Moments ago it had felt like a far away daydream- like the possibility of getting hit by a car was so unlikely that it would never happen; talk about learning too little too late. But this vague acknowledgment was overwhelmed by another, all consuming desire.
I wanted to die.
I'm not suicidal, that wasn't and has never been the case. I've never fallen far enough or had such a shitty day that feelings like that overwhelmed me. Did I ever wonder about it? Yes, of course, it's perfectly human to muse over what might happen and what might not. But the reason, the sudden, striking understanding that came from the detached part of my mind that was carefully cataloguing my injuries was that a rib had punctured my lung and it was rapidly filling with blood. Unless an ambulance and paramedics were extremely close by, the chances of my survival were virtually nonexistent. Already I was suffocating, my oxygen deprived brain screaming mindlessly for air. My slow death was an agonizing process - I don't think there are any words to describe my suffering, how badly I wanted it to end.
That instant is forever engrained in my memories, haunting me through my nightmares and even into the waking world. To this day, it's virtually impossible for me to approach a car. But beyond the pain and understanding I can only recall one regret, startlingly clear despite the overwhelming pressure threatening to consume me whole:
I didn't even get to say goodbye.
. . .
In the end, there were two teenagers. Their skin was mottled, their limbs were heavy but their eyes were open. Standing on the edge of something much bigger than themselves, they shared a look-
-and leapt.