Chapter Five: And Suddenly Everything Changed…

He was on his back. That's all he knew. Unable to open his eyes or move a single muscle. Everything was hazy and distorted to all senses. He could hear nothing. Nothing but his own breathing, gasps, chokes, blood coated inhalations. He felt warm, content, like how you feel in the middle of a cold night when you're snuggled in your blankets. He didn't know how long he lay there, but it felt like forever. Finally he was able to hear. He swallowed, breathing, calming, no longer tasting the drips of blood go down his throat. He felt the ground beneath him, the cold pavement, bits of metal and debris among his fingers. His eyes opened as he squinted through the light, brighter than anything he'd ever seen before. He closed them again, shaking his head, adjusting them. He bent his neck, lifting his head and staring straight, seeing his mangled vehicle feet away. He was thrown on impact.

He sat up, staring, ignoring any pain. He felt fine, good even, sitting there and watching his car ignite in flames. His lips curled, smiling, laughing. He laughed bitterly to himself, watching another car burn…amazed that he had survived yet again when Marissa was taken so quickly the last time. Why couldn't he just die? Was he fucking immortal? Did he have some kind of guardian angel that kept him out of harm's way? He sat there, spitting out blood and wiping away the sweat and oil that ran down his face. Pulling himself up, he stared down at the body of his car, feeling the heat and it was burning to a crisp. His anger overcame him. He grabbed scraps of metal that were scattered on the road, hurling them as hard as he could into the ball of fire. He grunted and screamed and kicked the back of the car until the fire reached his feet, and he moved away to not get burned. Exhausted, he fell to the ground again and sat listening to the roar of the flame.

He heard footsteps to his left, coming closer, clanking like the shoes were girly and expensive. He turned, still sitting on the ground. His heart skipped. She was there. She walked, hands in pockets, staring at the wreck and stopping at his feet. His breaths quickened, watching her, unbelieving. "Marissa?" he whispered, looking up at her. She looked so real. But she couldn't be. He was just hallucinating…right? "Hi, Ryan." she greeted softly, her warm smile looking as beautiful as he remembered. He started panicking, closing his eyes and opening them again, thinking that she would disappear. But every time they would open, she would be there, standing next to him, hands in pockets, smile bright as ever.

"W-What is this?" he choked out, scrambling slowly to his feet to stand up next to her. "How are you here right now?" Her expression grew worried, sad, as she slipped a hand out of one pocket to point passed him. He turned immediately, looking at what she had silently pointed out. He saw himself…in the middle of the street, bits of glass surrounding him, soaked in pools of blood. "Whoa." he huffed, staring at himself, before turning back to her. "Am I…?" She shook her head, still staring at the scene. "No." she said. "Not yet…there's still some life in you. You're just unconscious." He shook his head, confused, looking at her, his eyes pleading for more explanation. "I-I don't understand." he said weakly. She licked her lips, taking a step closer to him. She stood inches away, staring into his eyes. "I miss you." she whispered, reaching up to touch his face.

He expected her hand to be cold, dead, but they were warm, just like he felt. "I see you." she said. "Everyday I see how miserable you are." He leaned into her hand, unsure that this was really happening, savoring that feeling. Only now, his body ached. Ached for her again. She moved up her other hand, holding his face gently as he closed his eyes. She leaned up on the tips of her toes, pulling his head down so she could plant her lips on his forehead. He lifted his arms, attempting to pull her into him, but his hands only went through her. "Wh-…" He looked at his hands as she pulled away. "Why can't I…?" She held her sides, shivering and shaking off the sensation. "I don't know." she said. "I think I can touch you…because I'm fully dead." She shrugged, tilting her head in sadness of the fact. "It takes some getting used to." He looked concerned, watching her discomfort. "I didn't hurt you, did I?" She shook her head. "No, no I'm fine." she confirmed. "Your hand just kind of felt like it was inside me for a second. Nothing more than tickle."

He stared over her as she relaxed, standing erect and normal like before. She looked at the car in the distance, crackling fire engulfing the front. Her eyes moved back to the body, lying still on the side of the road. "Ryan, you have to go back." she said, looking at him again. He shook his head. "No…I-I can't." he said. "I can't without you." She smiled feebly, shoulders sinking. "You have to." she affirmed. "There's a reason why you keep surviving. I know that you crashed on purpose…you want to die…but you're job isn't done yet, Ryan." He continued to shake his head, his throat tightening as she spoke. "There's more for you to do in the world. I guess my time just came. Somehow I was meant to die." He stepped closer to her, hysterics taking over, mixing with his grief and anger. "No!" he screamed. "No, you weren't! He took you from me!" Tears welled in her eyes, watching his desperation. "Ryan, go. Please." she ordered. "You'll see…maybe you can fix this if you go back."

His heart beat rhythmically. He couldn't breathe again. His body shook in hysterics. "Marissa, please don't make me go." he pleaded. "Please. I need you there!" Tears ran down her cheeks, but her face remained still…and completely perfect. Again, she shook her head. "Go…" she whispered. She planted both hands on his chest, clenched her jaw and pushed. He was thrown backward, stumbling and trying to balance himself. "Try and fix it!" she called, pushing again. "Fix everything." He was thrown to the ground, landing on his own disheveled body, struggling, unable to move or respire again, stuck. His eyes fell shut once more. "Marissa…" he mumbled, weak and delirious. He felt immense pressure on his chest, his arms, now his entire body. He fought, trying to stay, trying to peel open his eyes just to look at her again. "Marissa…" He finally gave in, too much weight upon him, passing out but somehow still conscious. It felt like he was floating, flying, invincible to all logical human nature. It felt incredible, unreal, like it did to see her face again. The face he would want to see everyday for the rest of his life.

Suddenly, as quickly as it came, the feeling stopped. He was no longer lighter than air. In fact, he felt heavier than ever. He was laying on something, he knew that, feeling the softness beneath him, engulfing him. He dared not try and move or open his eyes, afraid of where he was or who'd he see this time. He clutched the material that entwined in his fingers, running his thumbs over the pliable fabric. It was cotton, he thought. He breathed now with ease, relaxing as he felt the same material against his toes. His eyelids slowly lifted. He saw ceiling, darkened, but ceiling nonetheless. He was in the pool house…he could recognize that ceiling anywhere…on his back in bed. He pulled himself up, immediately wincing in pain. He leaned backward to turn the light on, looking down at himself through the wife beater. He had two large red marks, split into sections like hands, one on each shoulder just below his collar bone.

His eyes widened in shock. It was real.

There was a knock at the pool house door, stealing his attention. "Uh…come in." he coughed, looking at his hands and holding them against his chest. Seth opened the door and stepped onto the hard wood flooring. "Hey, man." he said weakly. Ryan just stared at him, still in shock. "Okay…uh, it's a good thing you're sitting down." Seth looked at his feet nervously, thinking of how to word the devastation. "I don't really know how to tell you this." Seth said. "It's gonna be really upsetting." Ryan blinked continuously, mouth slighting open so air could travel quickly in and out of his lungs. "Um, I know what happened…with Trey and Marissa…like what really happened." Seth explained. Ryan furrowed his eyebrows, more confused at this moment than he had ever been before. "What-What are you talking about, Seth?" he asked, finding his voice and shaking his head. He swallowed, tasting blood again, staring at Seth, wondering how he got there and if this was even really happening. He touched his own face and ran his hand over his head, feeling the newfound length of his hair. "When we were in Miami…I guess he like attacked her or something, kinda forced himself on her." Seth said reluctantly.

Again, Ryan's heart skipped a beat. "I mean nothing happened, she fought him off." Seth continued. "But that's…that's why he's got the cut on his head." Ryan looked around, breathing in huffs. Seth took a step toward the bed, not really knowing what to say, seeing Ryan obviously freak. "I know it's hard to hear." he said. Ryan shook his head no. "This isn't happening." he whispered, closing his eyes. "This isn't real." He stopped for a moment, realizing what was going on and realizing where he was at that point in time. "Wait." he said, looking up at Seth again. "Wait…what-what's the date today?" Seth looked just as confused as Ryan. "Wh...Why?" he asked, shrugging, wondering why that was even relevant. "Answer the question, Seth!" Ryan yelled, getting antsy. Seth was taken aback by his outburst. "It's May 19th." he answered, eyes bugged and confused. "Of what year?" Ryan asked, looking down at the bed, awaiting the confirmation.

"2005."

A smile broke out on his face, astonishments and impossibilities aside. "No way…" he said to himself. It couldn't have been a dream. You don't just dream an entire year. That's impossible. How long had he been asleep? He remembered every day of senior year. Every moment he and Marissa had spent together. This was insane. It seemed so real. And how would you explain the marks on his shoulders? She told him to fix it all. He was sent back to change it. Sent back to save her. "I gotta go." he announced, jumping up from the bed. He scrambled around the pool house, grabbing a button-down shirt and pulling it over his wife beater. "Whoa…where are you going?" Seth asked, still dumbfounded to what was going on. "I have-I have to go see her." Ryan exclaimed, reaching for a pair of jeans. He dropped his pajama bottoms, not caring that Seth was in room, before pulling the jeans over his legs and up to his waist. "Why do you seem so happy about this?" Seth asked.

Ryan looked around the pool house, spotting the Range Rover keys on his bed side table. "I have to go, Seth." he said, picking them up. He walked to the door and patted Seth's back. "I'll explain everything later." Seth nodded and turned around. "Please do." Ryan beamed, opening the door. "Thanks for telling me, man." Ryan urged toward him, pulling Seth into a sloppy hug, before pulling away, continuing to beam with happiness. Seth was left standing in the pool house, his mouth gaping open. He could hear the screech of Ryan's tires in the distance. Summer stood in the Cohen kitchen, looking through the glass doors, giving Seth a questioning look. He shrugged her off, not knowing what to even say as explanation. He turned his head to look at the bed and then back to the open pool house door.

"What just happened?"