left, right, left – the winds shield wipers spun rapidly pushing
the unceizing stream of water out of sight. This rain shower had come
out of nowhere tonight, apparently one of those spontanious summer
rains which end as quickly as they begin.
was no music from the radio – it had been turned to mute about 20
minutes ago; leaving behind the mere noise from the heavy raindrops
punching on the cars rooftop. Outside of the car, besides the allmost
opaque rain there was only complete darkness for the rainclouds
covered up the moon and stars and here in the middle of the forest
there were no streetlights whatsoever. Thus the visible world ended
outside the cones drawn by the cars headlights.
had already overcome the person on the passenger seat, it was 2:34am.
Just a short gaze over to the right – „How peacefully
asleep...“ - while the own eyelids felt heavy. Now looking back
to the street in front. Another car approaved them from the other
direction. Its lights piercingly bright – the upper beam had not
been dimmed in spite of the other car. After it had passed by the
street and everything around had become even darker than before. Only
miliseconds – while the driver was still blinded – a large animal
jumped across the road right infront of the car. The time barely was
enough to recognize it as a deer. Squeaking of the breaks briefly
drowned by a load impacting sound. Shattering glass.
had just happened?
morning, Ashton Hospital.
morning Dr. Michels. Nice to have you back...“ one of the
nurses said to the man walking across the hallway. His face didn't
make the impression as if he would have noticed her. The jacked he
wore was covered with mudstains. A long tear in his jeans revealed
the left knee. On his forhead there was a big plaster appearently
covering a wound. Half of his face and his neck were still red
stained – probably from that very wound on his head.
just walked straight towards the other end of the hallway, not
regarding the other patients, nurses and doctors he passed by. „Good
morning Michels!“ said the Doctor who was on duty this morning
just briefly interupting the examination of an elderly woman. „Hey
Daniel.“ Michels responded more mummbeling than actually
speaking. Clearly his mind was occupied with the patient waiting for
him in the room on the other side of that hallway. „Wait just a
second. How are you doing you're self?“ The Doctor waved over a
nurse to look after the woman and then walked after him. „Your
head looks pretty bad.“ pointing out the plaster on Michels'
forehead. But these last words remained uncommented as Michels
stepped through the door of room 302.
beeping of the ECG was slow but steady. Usually he overheard it when
he was at work but today he was not on duty and his perspective on
the patient he visited was also not that of a doctor but that of a
worried spouse. For a moment he stood completely still. There in the
only bed in this room lay a very fair looking young woman. Her eyes
remained closed as he approached the bed and sat down at her side.
Jannet, how are you darling?“ „She can't hear you Carson.“
Michels glanced at his colleague Daniel who had just entered the
room, only seconds after Michels. „We were able to stabilise
her. She had lost a lot of blood but we stopped the bleeding. She
also suffered multiple fractures on her left leg and three of her
rips are broken. She's in a coma since she came, there is no way of
knowing when...“ „Thank you Daniel!“ Michels did not
even want to know all the details. „Carson, please! Let me take
a look at your head.“ Daniel looked over the plaster „This
must have hurt like hell. That plaster barely seems to be enough for
this. Please don't tell me you did this yourself?“ But Michels
didn't respond. Instead he leaned forward and took the hand of his
wife. His attention was not pointed at anything else besides her.
Only the continuous „beep – beep – beep“ of the ECG
pierced his head. He has been having a splitting headache ever since
he woke up. He wispered almost inaudibly „What have I done?“
this needs to be sewed.“ Dr. Daniel Muriel spoke in a very
prefessional manner. They now were in another room and Daniel
examined his patient who did not seem to comprehend what has happened
to him. „Do you know what happened? The medic said they found
the both of you beside the car but it didn't look like you'd have
been thrown out of the car.“
Michels turned his head towards the window. The sun stood higher, it
was about 10am now.
honestly don't know. First thing I remember is coming here.
Everything that happened before that is... I don't know.“
Daniel reached for the box with the latex gloves and then called in
one of the nurses from the hallway. „Lean back, it's ok.
I'd also like to get an MRI of your head after I took care of this
in the afternoon Carson Michels was cleared to leave the hospital and
head home. His friend had checked him but except a few bruises and
the sewn lacertaion on his forehead he was found to be fine. The MRI
of his head had shown nothing that could explain the blackout he
experienced. Carson took a cab back to the house he had bought about
five months ago. He gave the cab driver a sizable tip because he
didn't look at what he had taken out of his wallet. His eyes where
focused on the mailbox by the curb. It was the first thing he
noticed. Somebody has got to look for the mail. Carson went for it.
When he opened the box an aweful squeaking emerged he never heard
before. That was when it occured to him that he had never opened this
box before. Usually his wife had picked up the mail. She was not here
to do it now. The mailbox was empty.
the house he layed down and tried to sleep for a while until he
finally gave up on it. Something kept him awake. He still had this
tremendous headache. It felt as if somebody was hitting him from
inside on the backside of his forehead with a rubber club. But that
was not the only thing that kept him from sleeping. All he was
thinking of was the night before. The ride home. What has happened?
Carson tried to remember but it was like reaching for coin in a well
deeper than his arm was long. It seemed closer than it actually was.
He knew it was there. The answer was there. What had happened was
there. Carson was positive about it. It was just out of reach. Maybe
some distraction could help. In the kitchen on the small cabinet by
the refrigerator was the pile with the last weeks newspapers. At
least that is where he put them each morning after he had read only
the first few pages. By habit he put the paper right there with the
intention to finish it after work but every evening when he got home
he was either far to tired to read anything or found something else
to do. Now there should be a decent amount of unread headlines to
keep his mind away from the accident, away from his wife. To his
surprise the stack of newspapers was gone. Nothing there to read. Of
course, it was monday. Jannet tends to toss them out sunday afternoon
when it becomes obvious that no one would pick up these papers if she
didn't. It is monday afternoon. Where was todays newspaper? The
paperboy throughs them right at the porch. There was no paper.
Probably not the first time – who knows.
went into the bathroom and opened the cabinet behind the mirror
without looking at himself. There was nothing that made want to see
the sewing on his forehead. He reached for a small white bottle of
aspirin and took three pills. He swolloed them with the water tap and
went back to the living room.
was something bothering about this house but he didn't know what.
Something was wrong in here. For the first time Carson was here by
himself all alone. Most days he worked much longer than his wife had
done so she has always already been at there when he got home. And
then he was either too occupied with her or too tired to really look
at things. Every piece of furniture and every single colour in the
livingroom had been chosen by his Jannet. She really had a greater
understanding of architecture and design. He just noticed – but
everything in here reminded him of her. He turned around to look at
the photographies on the fireplace. Pictures of her parents, his
parents, her with her sister, him with his dog who died four years
ago and in the middle a bigger photo of the happy couple. There was
the mistake in the room. For a moment he had though the picture had
been mirrored somehow. At least it was the wrong way around. Or was
It was not. Everything was right the way it was. The headache was
getting worse. Time for those pills to kick in. A sudden deep growl.
Carsons stomach. He had not eaten in a day. Except for those aspirin.
It is not good to take such a dose of aspirin on an empty stomach so
Carson decided to get himself something to eat. The frige offered a
welcoming filled sight. The kitchen was more Carsons part of the
house than Jannets. Even though he had not much spare time he spend a
decent amount of it every morning and evening in the Kitchen cooking
for his wife and him. Jannet was not as good at cooking as he was.
But the idea of cooking only for himself appeared absurd. A sandwich
finishing this sporadic meal Carson sat down in the livingroom chair
and turned on the TV. But as soon as he heard the high frequency
sound from the screen it gave him the impression of an iron nail
being hammered into his skull. Why did this headache not cease? A
press on the button and the TV shut off even before the imaged
completely appeared. There is just nothing here to do.
very familiar yet iritating noise penetrated the front door and
cought Carsons attention. The mailbox somebody must have opened and
closed it. Carson rose from his chair. The sudden movement caused his
headache to spike beyond endurable. Yet there was nothing that held
him inside so Carson stepped outside. There was no sign of the postal
service whatsoever an not even one single car parked anywhere close.
Inside the mailbox was not a letter but merely a piece of paper
folded in the middle. It said „Meet me in the clinic...“
but no signature.