A single second can change a life. One blink, one movement. One word, and it's all over. Years working up to it, hoping you'd make it, being raised and doing the best you could; over. A flash; you might not even have time to catch your breath.

That's how I felt that fateful November morning. You could tell that winter was closing in, encasing our red and orange wonderworld in a bright, frosty white. My breath was blowing in front of my face in little white puffs before disintegrating, their remains floating around my cheeks like spirits. I was walking to my friend Summer's house; so we could walk to school together. Just like I had every other day of every other year since first grade.

This morning felt different. There was a frigid vibration in the air, choking me. I couldn't quite place my finger on what it was, but I decided to ignore it, blaming the feeling on the change of weather. I focused solely on the noise the rubber of my converse made on the sidewalk as I walked on; Click, click, click, cli-
Bam.

In one second I was reeling. I was thrown to the ground, every nerve ending in my system screaming in protest at me.

I didn't see the car.

I doubt it saw me either, and if it did, not until it was too late. Some lady was trying to plug in her phone, or searching around in her purse for her wallet. She took her eyes off the road for a minute; not even a minute, but that's really all it takes. In a battle of Car vs. Human, Car is far larger than Human and will inevitably win. My body was a perfect example of this theory. It was splayed out on the pavement, bent in ways that it was never meant to bend. Blood was everywhere, including my jeans. Damn, those were new jeans. I had picked them up with Summer last weekend. They were supposed to be a key ingredient in my "Get Josh Richardson to want me" outfit, however I think that idea is screwed. Blood stains are the worst.

The lady that hit me was on her phone, looking panicked. I wished I could assure her that I was really fine, not dead, but I wasn't exactly sure that was the truth. I was surveying the scene from an outsider's point of view; not as Cassidy Anne Langlaose, the girl on the ground. I was content to watch in facination as cops arrived on the scene, and an ambulance not far behind. The Emergency guys checked my pulse, but looked very concerned about the outcome. I was assuming it was because I didn't have one.

Amazingly, I was accepting this fairly well. I mean, yeah I wasn't thrilled that my spirit had somehow found a way to break up with my body, but what're you gonna do, right? I guess it just wasn't working out anymore. Neither parties were happy, it was for the best, all of that shit people try to tell you after a tough breakup, thinking it'll make it better; it only makes it worse.
As my body was rolled into the ambulance, I raised my right hand and gave a half-hearted wave. Goodbye.