FicWad

The deafening screech of tires on concrete pierced my ears; the horrid, overwhelming stench of burning rubber polluted the air. Bleeding in the road was a young man, around my age, wearing leather jacket and steel toed boots. It took me a while to realise that the dying boy was me, and by then it didn’t even matter. I no longer felt connected to that weak body; I was floating high up above it. Finally free of mortal chains.
I never thought I would die young, never thought about dying at all actually. I mean, I was seventeen for Christ`s sake! My mind was preoccupied with the usual teenage boy things. Sex, how to get pissed without any ID, art and music. Mainly sex. Dying never came into it; wasn’t part of my plan. College was, I was going to have a bright future, maybe even meet a nice girl after my first (and only) relationship had collapsed in tatters. The thought that I would be another drunk driving statistic never even entered my mind.
The accident made all of the local papers; there was even a brief mention on a major news channel about the so called "miracle" boy. DEATH SMASH: TEEN CRITICAL AFTER DRUNK HIT AND RUN and LUCKY ESCAPE: BOY SAVED BY OFF DUTY NURSE were just a few headlines I recalled. I didn’t remember much about the crash, just a lot of blood and pain. And the strange feeling of floating away from my broken body. I most certainly didn’t feel lucky. An operation or two, thirty one stitches and a metal plate later and I was well on the rocky road to recovery.
For the next couple of months I suffered crippling headaches and blurred vision. Eventually they subsided and doctors said my recovery was incredible, the best they`d seen. Whoopi-fucking- do for them. My life had been forever altered; I had been forever altered, both mentally and physically. Eventually I was allowed back home, but that was when the real terrors began.