The Day I Died

Wake up. The alarm is going off AGAIN. I sit up and look in the mirror above my bed. “Good morning,” I mumble groggily. It’s likely I’ll be the only person I’ll hear that from today. Except… Except for my cat, Squeaky, she always says good morning and then jumps up onto the bed to have her morning cuddles. We both need cuddles. It’s the small things.

            The light is coming through the window. It’s 5:30 and the teakettle is on, bubbling up from a whisper to a roar; then “click” and the sound fades. I pour the steaming water into my mug. Nothing beats PG tips tea on a cold morning before a long Monday. It’s back into bed with my tea and my “biscuit,” as the Brits call them, the Book open on my lap and Squeaky by my side. “I have to teach at 8:00,” I remind myself.

            As I walk down the street, I feel the weight of by backpack bearing down on my soul. A bit dramatic, I know, but then I remember that I get to teach at 8:00 and that makes me happy. My students are good kids. Lately though, we had to have the “cellphone talk.” I swear, if I see one more phone out in class… it is going to be the death of me… It is a beautiful day. The early morning sky is blue and fluffy, white clouds drift across the glorious expanse, still tinted pink from the sunrise. I wonder if I’ll see my butterfly today. It is getting a little chilly but I have still seen him. Everywhere I go, a black and orange butterfly. I wonder how many people are attentive enough to see the butterflies. I narrowly avoid running into someone… face glued to his phone… One of these days I’m not going to move, and they’re going to run into me and fall right on their asses… But that’s not what I’m worried about…

            I walk up to the board and start to write. “Me, te, se, nos, os, se. ¿Cuándo usamos estos pronombres?” I look back, see the hand raised and hear the words, “sorry, I wasn’t paying attention…” I just look at her. Do you think I can’t see you? Have we not just talked about this? This will be the death of me. I continue teaching... For those that care… The review is over and people make appointments to meet with me. I love my job! Then it’s back to work… Studying for my grad classes. At least I get to see my friends in the office. I wish I had seen my butterfly.

            My head hurts and my mind is full of thoughts. Mostly about what I should eat for dinner and what a beautiful day it is... letting the rest go for a while… They’ve planted new flowers. I smile as someone walks toward me. Nothing. They just pass by. And they wonder why they’re lonely… The breeze is cool and the sun is warm. Beautiful. I look all around and just soak it in. It doesn’t matter anymore that no one else seems to see it, that few others walk with their eyes in their head and their feet on the ground. I concentrate on what is immediately before me. I have to be careful crossing the streets here. I’m always aware. Always watching. I know that people don’t pay attention, so I must. Down the block I go, along my normal route. I cross by the gas station and go on down the road. I cross over the train tracks. I hate the train tracks. I hate the sound the train makes when you’re close enough to hear it rumble along the tracks. There’s no train now though. I glance up at the sky for a second, and there is my butterfly! “He’s beautiful,” I think as I keep walking and then the engine roar and the impact take me… and as the pavement rises to meet me, I see the cellphone fly from the driver’s hand. This will be the death of me. I am one of the 6,000 pedestrians that died because of distracted driving this year; one of the 15 percent of all casualties in the United States, and you just killed me.

https://www.npr.org/2017/03/30/522085503/2016-saw-a-record-increase-in-pedestrian-deaths