The Bridge

I could barely remember the last thing I did before I made it here. Every time I force myself to memorize what had happened I only see a dense white fog surrounding my memory. What I do remember as clear as a day is— it was around two in the morning, the closing time of the bar I work at and It rained rather heavily. My friend, Ivano Salza who was the last customer of the night offered me a ride in his Toyota Corolla which I idiotically refused because partly, I was questioning his sobriety. What can I say? The man could drink. I've driven my Kawasaki in the rain before, it was easier than a walk in the park for me. Ivan did advise me to wait until the downpour calms down. “So it would be safer” He added before speeding at the speed of light only leaving a trail of smoke behind. Did I listen? No. Although, I should have. Did it get me here? Yes, just my f*****g luck. I remember my last moments when I was speeding up more than usual near the bridge that I always use as a shortcut to get me home faster. I know it would be slippery but I didn't think it would almost kill me. One second I was going through the bridge, the next I was sliding to the edge then, I woke up here unable to speak or move. Now I'm in a bit of a situation, first I saw a child running inside my room. Circling my bed and when I tried to ask the whereabouts of her parents or guardians I saw her going through the door without opening it. She went straight through like the door wasn't even there. I assumed that it was my head playing tricks on me. The next day I come into the conclusion that something could be really, really f*****g wrong here. There is a sad-looking woman standing on my side staring me down, refusing to move but the nurses don't acknowledge her presence when they enter the room to check on me, as if she doesn't exist.