Day 158 – The Accident

Derek challenged me to write a story using 3 words, 2 of which I will tell you now as the third word may ruin the ending (it begins with O). 2 words: back, passage

This story is inspired by the true story of Terry Nutkins and was remarkably thought of in around four and a half seconds and written in about twelve minutes.

Word count: 679

I’d like to think that I’ve changed since the accident. Maybe I have become more cautious, more self conscious even. The nightmares, though, they have recently stopped. I no longer wake with terrors and coiled in my duvet, sweat clinging to my skin as my mind has dragged the horrific memories back from where I thought I had buried them.
No one understood what I had gone through at first. Immediately afterwards, I never spoke to anyone about it. It took me months to become accustomed to my new way of life and the doctors – helpful though they were – could never really empathise. No one really could. Eventually, though, and with encouragement from my closet friend, I made an appointment with a psychiatrist and my healing could begin.
Until that point, I would lie in bed for hours, staring at the walls and not realizing that I had not eaten in days. I gave up my work. I gave up everything I enjoyed. I didn’t think you could enjoy life after what I had been through. I didn’t think it were possible to move on. I’m glad I was wrong.

The psychiatrist I saw was very good. He showed me a new way to look at what happened to me. Despite resisting at first, I slowly came round to this new way of thinking. I began to read again. I began to enjoy food, to try different things. Some days I would wake up in the early hours in the morning just to see the sunrise. I’d force myself to do something until I was so tired I collapsed with fatigue.

It took years, admittedly. I’m not the same person any more, I think. I’m quiet, I’m reserved. I let others speak before I say my piece. I don’t like it when I see others in pain. I still occasionally get flashbacks though and it was not until today that I would finally go through with the final piece of my plan to get better.

Today was sunny, just like that day. It was the same location, same trees, and same enclosure. It was the same small wall that I sat on. The faces were different, though. The people walking by wore different clothes; different haircuts; different shapes and sizes. For a minute I felt I was the same, though. And then I remembered that it was six years on and that it had happened and it was not going to happen….again.
I approached the small wall and looked down. It was mainly grassland now but it was not then. Six years ago it was a pond with a little grass edge. Though it had not completely changed – I could still see the little passage that they would swim through in order to get to the waterfall on the other side of the enclosure.
Water splashing, claws slicing, teeth sinking: a shudder went down my spine. A part of me was calling out from the past. I had stood in this spot six years ago and my entire life had changed, of course a little piece of me had splintered off and would always haunt this place.
I peered over the edge, clutching my hand tighter. I half expected one to appear, but there was nothing but grass. It was clear. I held out my hand in front of me and examined the empty space where my finger used to be. I always used to be frightened of it, my deformity. I used to be scared of it. I used to lay awake at night and wonder where it went, if it was still out there. I know it’s not. I know I’ll never get it back.
It all came together in an instance; six years of struggle; six years of physical pain, grief and finally, acceptance. But though it might have changed me for life, it made me better and finally in that instant by the small wall, peering over the enclosure, I could realize that whilst they took my finger, those otters would never take my life.

~ by S.G. Mark on March 13, 2012.

3 Responses to “Day 158 – The Accident”

  1. naestoryinnight?

  2. kool

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