Collision Home

It’s midnight somewhere in California. Breath down her neck, it’s the last thing she feels before she goes under. There were too many men and too little time. There was beer pong and a party scene, nights out smoking on a college campus far away. The stars are up above. The drive to the ER is long and there is no trail left to lead her home.

It’s midnight in Cambridge, Massachusetts. Ariel is driving by the Harvard campus, their college campus, sensing upcoming rain when her phone starts to vibrate.

It’s her father.

“Julie’s in criticial condition at the hospital.”

Then something collides with her car.

~

Outside of Harvard in downtown Cambridge is a bar called O’Brien’s. Ariel takes Julie there tonight after promises to Be Good. Julie consumes five voda sodas in two hours. The bartender cuts her off.

Instead of being embarrassed, or angry, Julie is simply flippant. Ariel is the embarrassed one. Can’t she have some self-control?

Ariel told her to stop: one drink is enough. Two, please no more. Three? Julie, this is your last one. You went to Harvard, you’re smarter than this.

Julie always called Ariel her recovery inspiration, as if their next conversation would magically cure Julie of her alcoholism. She posted a photo of Ariel at O’Brien’s to social media later that night, captioning the photo: my sister is my hero.

The caption also included a reference of moving to California, a new life for herself but a promise to return home.

A promise Ariel herself will eventually need time to recover from, forgive herself for.

~

Ariel was never certain if Julie’s sobriety promises blurred or simply ceased to matter in the seconds before she blacked out. If she was concerned with possibly not waking up.

But tonight, the black out lasts longer than it should.

Every night is a risk, a matter of a single minute.

~

It is now 12:01AM. Ariel gets out of her car to inspect the damage done; it is now starting to really rain. The other driver is talking but she can’t hear them. She had been thinking of the flippant, distant sound of Julie’s coat being pulled on before leaving the bar. She can smell the vodka sodas; it’s a lie they can’t be smelled on someone’s breath. It was a lie that she could be trusted to be anyone’s hero.

It only took a single moment to register the collision. And for that single moment, thoughts of Julie are gone.

But something odd happened. Upon inspecting her car, there is no damage. It was a phantom collision.

And now the thought of Julie is back.

~

“You are the smell before rain. You are the blood in my veins.”*

When Ariel visited Julie once in California, they drove down the Pacific Coast Highway and belted out this song to make your heart strings tremble. Julie said, I miss the rain.

Ariel ignored Julie’s tremor.

She was one alcoholic bender away from returning home, in the form of a phantom.

Or, perhaps, a promise.

*taken from: The Boy Who Blocked His Own Shot by Brand New