Beyond Repair

Everything was so very, very dark. I was sure it had been light when I closed my eyes. I was sure the sun had been casting red shafts of light into the sky. Yet, everywhere I looked, it was dark. Not the usual night sky kind of darkness, but as though I had slipped from the world into some place else. Not hell, that wouldn't be so dark. Certainly not heaven, although Christ I had no chance of making it up there, anyway. No, it was like I had slipped into a black hole, or at least what I assumed a black hole must feel like. It seemed like I could see nothing but darkness, but the darkness had an infinity feel to it. As though I was seeing both nothing and everything all at the same time. Although I couldn't see anything, I could hear plenty. There were screams reverberating off the walls of nothingness. Some seemed to be in the distance, a kind of wailing, others were much closer. The one that was echoing in my ears was the most awful high-pitched squeal. The sort that only a banshee could make and only dogs could hear. It was like a call from hell welcoming me home. I tried to remember what the last thing I was doing was, but the sound made it impossible to concentrate on anything. It seemed to never stop. A constant assault on my senses that wouldn't go away. I wish I could say that at that moment, I didn't wonder if I was dead, but I did. Feeling like I was floating, but only my mind. It was like someone had stolen my body from me. I would have tried to move it, but it just wasn't there. All that was left were my thoughts. My entire life, my mother taught us about heaven and hell, to believe in the afterlife. Except suddenly, it seemed like the afterlife was just an eternity of thoughts and no actions. Maybe I was in hell after all, because an eternity spent like that would be torture. I tried my hardest to work out what else I could sense. There was no touch, nothing at all, just mind-numbing nothingness. I could taste something though, but I had no idea how, without so much as a tongue, to move around. The strange taste was oddly foreign, but familiar at the same time. Metallic. Warm. Thick. The smell, that was the only pleasant thing about my current place in the universe. It smelt like a fresh summer's breeze, the sort you get when you are standing on some grass hill at sunset. When warmth has filled the day and is slowly retiring into the night's coolness. The sort that makes you want to take in a deep breath and fill your lungs with the hopefulness of the next day already on its way. I could smell the grass, freshly cut. The slight hint of damp in the air was as though a refreshing summer's rain was on its way. I could even smell something floral. It was a familiar scent, but as with everything else, I didn't seem to have the cognitive thought to place it. I didn't seem to have the thought process for much. Desperately trying to think how I had come to be in such a place, but there was nothing. I couldn't even quite picture what my absent body looked like. Feeling the stuffiness of a headache forming in my mind from the effort of thought, I went back to basking in the smell. It made me think of something, but I couldn't pinpoint what it was. I tried again to conjure up my body. Feeling the slightest sensation that seemed so far away from my mind. I pressed it to something else and realized it was my finger. Slowly, piece by piece, my brain seemed to clear up. My body started to obey my commands once again. I managed to lift my arm up to my face. It was just one arm I could force to do something, but it was better than nothing. The feeling of cloth on my fingers made me realize there was something on my face and I pulled at it. Dragging the black fabric from my vision. The red streaks were no longer in the sky, but the moonlight I had expected was there, at least. Slowly, turning my head despite the agonising pounding it caused and trying to get my bearings. I was on the team bus. How had I forgotten? Still strapped into my seat by the flimsy waist belt, but it no longer felt like a strip of material. I glanced down carefully, slowly. It wasn't the seat belt holding me in, but the whole seat of the person in front. The gray patterned material dug into my torso. I tried to scream. Only then did I realize that the banshee was me. It was like I was two separate people. My body and my soul had been separated, but putting them back together was a painful, confusing process. As my mind became more and more aware of the body's pain, it started to beg for separation again. Except my mind needed to be in control. I was a levelheaded guy. I had to be in my job. As captain, it was my job to think on my feet and instruct the lads on what to do next. THE LADS! They were all here with me. It wasn't called a team bus without good reason. How had I allowed myself to forget about them? I took a deep breath, silencing the screams. My body had to do as it was told for the time being, no matter how much it wanted to run around like a headless chicken screaming. Screaming wouldn't make the pain go away and it wouldn't fix anything else, either. Silence seemed to follow, but only for a matter of seconds. Then the other sounds around me could finally make their way in. I slowly turned my head toward the wailing I had heard before and the floral smell that was drifting towards me. Terri, sweet, uncomplicated Terri. I could see her chest rising and falling in wracking sobs. She was beside herself. The fear forced her hands to shake. She had been sitting beside me, closest to the window, but not any longer. The seat belt hadn't been enough to hold her in place and somehow she had been thrown backwards. I could see the glass beneath her twinkling in the moonlight. We had been in the last row of seats at the back of the bus. There was nowhere for her to go. That was when it dawned on me, the gravity. I was being pulled backwards into my seat. I tried to reach my arm up to her. The only one that was obeying my commands still and only made slow progress. Terri was my girlfriend. Had been for way longer than I should have allowed. She was loyal and kind. The girl next door type. We were together before I got signed. We were best friends before I kicked my first ball. Still, I had allowed the world we now lived in to corrupt me into thinking I had to be careful with her. People would say things about girls only being after the money or fame, but I knew deep down that Terri wasn't like that. She hated the fame, she hated the travelling. She was with me because she loved me despite what I did for a living, not because of it. I had come to that realisation before the events of the night. It was all starting to come back to me. It had been the final of the Euros that night. I had already decided that, win or lose, I would finally ask her to marry me. We had taken victory too easily, but it wasn't going to be the highlight of my night. Football was a big part of my life. It was my love, but I loved her more. As my fingers finally made contact with her skin, the soft dewiness of her sparked so many memories and her eyes shot open like a startled deer. I felt the bus move. The jerk of it made me close my eyes for a second as the pain swept through me anew. I felt the shaking increase beneath my fingers. Turning my attention back to Terri, I saw the reason for her terror. The glass beneath her was cracking. I couldn't see what was beneath her. It was too dark. I tried to wrap my fingers around her wrist, but my body still wasn't listening to me the way it should. I pushed myself backwards as hard as I could, hearing the audible c***k as I did and waiting for the pain, but there was none. Using the extra reach, I managed to get a firm hold on her wrist. "Terri, you need to climb up to me." "I can't." "You have to." The glass gave way beneath her before I could argue with her further. There was no coaxing her into action once her body was hanging through the glass. I had hoped that the ground was directly beneath her. That there was nowhere for her to go, but that fitful hope was quickly proven unfounded. I squeezed her as hard as I could. Using every bit of strength I had built up to keep her with me. Wishing in vain that it was my legs holding her up. Everyone in the world knew how powerful they were. She hung there barefooted. Having taken her high heels off, as soon as she had gotten on the bus, as usual. She shouldn't have even been on the bus. There were strict rules about wives and girlfriends. Except as captain, I had used my pull with our manager to make him let her come back with us. It wasn't even the first time I had convinced him. We had been to Barcelona, and it had been scorching. Terri was only wearing a pair of denim shorts and a cropped tee. Suddenly, she seemed so naked. So unprotected from the earth. As though the wind that was blowing her red hair around was going to do her some sort of damage, because of her lack of layers. Nothing to do with the fact that she was dangling from my arm, her eyes begging me to hold on to her, but her tears telling me she didn't believe I would. I wished I could reassure her, to tell her that I would never let her go, but I couldn't find the words to utter lies. I could already feel her slipping from my grip. Help needed to come quickly. My arm was twisted backwards over the seat and I was starting to lose feeling in it. I could feel the sweat from both of our palms working against us. I knew my face was contorted with the effort of holding her in the same universe as me. "Max, I love you." She let go of my wrist as she uttered the last word, slowly slipping from my world. I tried so hard to reach her again as my fingertips lost contact with her, but I just couldn't, not the way I was pinned in. I watched in horror as she descended in slow motion. Her pale Irish skin seemed to glow in the darkness. She fell so far before she finally disappeared from my view, leaving me heartbroken and under no illusion of what was waiting for me and the lads if we slipped from the bus.