《On the Other Side of the Blackwood River》


 One

    My name is Samantha Diane Lindsey. It¡¯s December 21, 2017 and today I¡¯m turning 27. Although it¡¯s my birthday, today isnt any different from yesterday. I still have to go to work and earn money to keep on living.


    I¡¯m currently working as a cashier at a gas station located in Maple Creek. That¡¯s right across the river from where I live in Grover, Vermont.


    Ten long years I¡¯ve been working at that gas station and I haven¡¯t taken a single birthday off. What for? I had no one at home. I wasn¡¯t someone special enough, or should I say popular enough to have a suprise party or even a night out with friends. To be honest, I haven¡¯t had a real friend in years.


    My last friend was in the sixth grade. Her name was Jessica. I can¡¯t remember her last name, but she had long auburn hair and pretty green eyes the color of fresh moss. Back then I was told that she had moved across the country, but as I grew older, I found out she was in a car accident and had passed away. Since then, I wish I could remember more about her, but my mind goes blank.


    After Jessica was gone, school was hell. I was bullied daily. It began with me not having a mom, because she died in childbirth. Somehow it was my fault and I believed it back then, but now I''m older and wiser and know I couldn''t have done anything to change the outcome.


    When they were done coming up with new ways to hurt me by using my mom, they began to bully me for my ethnicity. You wouldn''t be able to tell just by reading my name, but my mother was half asian. So that makes me a fourth. Even though I''m only a fourth, I still got the almond shaped eyes and dark hair. It doesn''t help that there aren''t any asians around here either so they just assume I''m what a typical asian would look like.


    *eyeroll*


    I lived with my dad in Grover since I was born. He was my only friend and we did everything together. But, shortly after graduating high school, he left me too. The cops say he took his own life after jumping off the bridge into the Blackwood river. I don¡¯t believe it. He wasn¡¯t suicidal or depressed. He wouldn¡¯t have left me alone in this world. He knew how much he meant to me and how I needed him. Maybe I''m in denial, because of how much I loved him or maybe its the lack of evidence pointing to him drowning in the water.


    They never did find a body, just a few of his belongings that had washed up on the side of the river bank.


    It¡¯s been about 8 years and I still daydream about my dad being here with me as I drink my morning coffee and watch the snow fall from the gray skies.


    It¡¯s only 5:25 a.m., but I need to shovel the snow out of my driveway and warm up my old chevy truck before I can get going. I woudn¡¯t have kept that gas guzzler if it wasn¡¯t for my dad. He¡¯d left it behind along with the house and it was better than walking to work.


    Some people wonder how I could keep living in this house after my dad took his life. It might be strange, but it somehow comforts me to be here. There are memories around every corner and in every room. Even the furniture hasnt been replaced. Most of it might be due to my lack of income, but a small part of me just can''t imagine tossing any of it out.Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.


    His room is still there, just as he left it 8 years ago. His brown comforter is spread across the bed and perfectly pulled at the corners to give a nice crease. A pile of old laundry tossed on the floor next to the door. His wallet and keys were placed by me on his dresser after the police gave them back to me. I havent touched them since and the dust piling everywhere was proof of how long he was gone.


    Setting my coffee mug down on to the coffee table, I headed for the front door and pulled on my boots and coat, grabbed my keys, bag, gloves and hat before heading out the door connected to the garage. I started up the engine and as it warmed up, I took a shovel, opened the garage door and began shoveling the snow. Underneath it was the worn-out, cracked pavement that desperately needed to be replaced.


    As I shoveled, I thought of an old memory of my dad slipping on an ice patch hidden beneath the snow. He¡¯d forgotten to throw salt down the night before and the snow below had frozen overnight.I watched from the living room window smirking as the drama unfolded. He pointed at the patch on the ground and started spouting profanity as if the snow and ice could understand him. He was such a sweetheart, so on the rare occasion he got mad, it was hilarious.


    By the time I was done, it was way past the time to leave. It was 5:47 a.m. and I needed to be there at 5:55 to start my shift at 6.


    ¡°Fuck. I¡¯m going to be late.¡±


    I hated running late. It caused so much anxiety and stress. Rationally, it was totally possible to get there on time. Even if I left three minutes later, I¡¯d still be there on time, but I was always the type to arrive early. Better too early than to be late I always say. So I hit the gas and drove as fast as I could to work.


    The roads were slippery as I''d expected. It had snowed yesterday and the tempertures were below freezing last night. It didn''t help that my tire treads were starting to get too dull for this kind of weather and that I was too lazy to place those damn chains on.


    My favorite xmas song played over the radio as I got closer to work. I could already see the bridge that crossed the Blackwood river from the bright spotlights of the gas station on the other side. The street lights were tame compared to their blinding white and the Christmas decorations were so banal that I hardly paid attention to them anymore.


    As I got closer to the bridge, I could of sworn the roads were empty, not a soul could be seen. But as the front end of my truck landed over the connecting point of the bridge and the road, You know, that small bump they always have, that''s when I saw it.


    I couldn''t believe my eyes that there was a little girl walking alone across that bridge when it was still pitch black out. I stomped on the brake as fast as I could and kept my foot on it, trying to control the truck as it spun out of control. My only thought was that the little girl would be safe.


    My truck swerved from left to right. I tried to remember what my dad had taught me if I were ever in a situation like this, but i couldn''t remember at all. How was it that I could remember all those frivolous details about him, but not the most important ones when I needed it?


    Losing all control, the truck smacked against the side of the bridge. The momentum flung it over the railing as it rolled over into the dark waters below.


    As it fell, I fought with my seat belt to get it off. It all happened so fast that I hadn''t even registered that the cold water was seeping through the cracked windshield.


    Finally free of the seatbelt, I tried to tug on the doors of the car to escape, but they wouldn''t budge. They were fully submerged in the water and my only way out would be to break the windows and swim through them, but how?


    I didn''t have anything in the truck with me that could be useful. The icy cold water was now up to my waist and I could feel my body temperature drop. My toes were already numb and my fingers were stiff from the cold. I panicked and began banging on the windows, but I knew it was no use. Eventually, as I sat there covered in the dark water of the Blackwood river, my body began to shut down. Then slowly my eyes began to blurr until I felt...


    nothing.

 Two

    I could of sworn I saw my mother, who I had only seen in photographs, walk past me as I scanned for a book in one of the aisles of the public library.


    Forgetting about the book, I quickly followed pursuit, trying to chase the lady that looked like my mother.


    I turned the corner into the walkway and to my surprise, I wasn''t in the library anymore. I was in the backyard of my house and it was summer. The flowers were blooming and the apple tree that my dad had planted long ago was full of fresh green leaves. I saw a woman crouched down next to the flower bed. She was bent over with some gardening tools creating small holes in the ground for the pink and red daises next to her. Even though I couldn''t see her face, I had a gut feeling who it might be.


    "Hello? ..... Mom?"


    As she turned her head, the straw hat she was wearing gave way, revealing a pale pretty face that resembled my own. Her soft brown eyes warmed as her lips curled up into a smile.


    "Samantha." She sounded surprised although she seemed pleased to see me.


    I took a step towards her, but she shook her head.


    "No, Sammy. It''s not time yet. You need to go back," she said as she slid the gardening gloves off of her hands.


    "What do you mean ''not time''?", I asked.


    It must of been some sort of weird dream that I was having. Why else would I be jumping from place to place and seeing my dead mother?


    She was now fully facing me, but the sun was blinding the view and I could hardly make out her features anymore.


    "You need to go back and find him." There was a pleading tone behind the demand.


    Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.While I watched the scene around us change again, it finally clicked. I wasn''t dreaming. The green grass, blue skies and the fresh pink daises swirled into a vibrant rainbow until it faded into nothingness.


    Now, we were in a dark corridor with the only source of light coming from behind my mother and a wooden door behind me.


    "Mom...," I sniffled.


    My mom, the one I''ve been  longing to meet all my life, was standing right in front of me. I''ve always wondered how she would look like, how her voice sounds and how she feels. Here she is now and I can''t even make a coherent sentence.


    "Mom, I...How..."


    I had so much to say, but was lost in a sea of emotions that I didn''t know were bottled up inside of me. I didn''t know where to begin. What should I ask her first?


    She began before I could finish. "There''s not much time Sammy. You need to go and find him."


    Her brows knitted as she said the word "him".


    "Who?," I asked, not having a clue who she could mean. I didn''t have anyone in the real world. There was no one I had left behind.


    She seemed surprised that I didn''t know.


    "Your father of course. He needs you still Sammy. You need to go back. If you stay here too long, you wont be able to return, " she pleaded.


    Now I was really confused.


    "But Dad passed away a long time ago. Around 8 years ago. And I still have so many questions and I just want to stay here for a while with you. Im finally able to meet you. I can''t just go back."


    My mom stifled a laugh behind her hand.


    "You remind me of your father so much Sammy. And I know we have a lot of catching up to do, but that''ll have to wait until the far future, Sweetie. Your father is still out there. He''s looking for you. Please hurry and go back before it''s too late. I''ll always be here for you Sammy. It doesn''t matter if I have to wait 50 more years. We will meet again. I promise you."


    Her eyes that were clouded with worry were now clearer and brighter as she gave me a warm smile. She pointed to the door behind me and made a shooing motion towards it.


    I took one more look at my mother who waved me off with all the love she could offer me from the distance. Her teary eyes were the reminder that she too was heartbroken from this bittersweet encounter.


    As I opened the door to return to the living world, I could hear a beeping sound in the distant. When I stepped over the threshold of the door, the sound became louder as my mom and the corridor vanished in an instant.


    My soul was being sucked back into my body and there was no escape from the fear and darkness that surrounded me.


    Flashbacks of the accident began flooding my memories.


    The Bridge.


    The Gas Station.


    The girl.


    The river.


    The girl.


    Was she okay?


    I needed to know.

 Three

    My eyes fluttered open, but everything was a blur. There was at first only one fuzzy head bent over the bed looking at me. Then another two joined shortly after. I flinched at the sight of a bright light flashing in my face. A deep voice mumbled at me as the light moved back and forth, but I couldn''t make out a single word.


    Then a high peeping muffled sound. Whoever it belonged to, proceeded to hold my arm up and wrap something cold around it.


    "BP normal," she stated.


    My hearing had become clearer, but my eyes were not fully healed. I could still make out from the fuzziness that the woman who was now shoving a thermometer in my ear was blond and had a pale pink tone to her skin.


    "97.8," she noted.


    "Alright. All her vitals look good. Everything seems normal. It''s only a matter of time now," he said. I couldn''t see the owner of the voice, but I could tell it was the man with the deep voice from  earlier.


    The sound of rustling papers and scribbling could be heard from within the room, but I couldn''t pinpoint where exactly.


    While they discussed about my injuries and what medications I needed, my eyesight started to improve. In fact, it had become so good that the small dots on the tiles above, which had become a mass of smudge were now distinguishable.


    I tried to sit myself up to see who was all in the room and figure out who the voices all belonged to, but the blond nurse pushed me gently back against the bed.


    "You need to be careful. You were just in a bad accident. Luckily, someone saw the whole thing and saved you. It''s a miracle that your even here or even awake already for that matter," she stated.


    Her  eyes were full of kindness and she seemed genuinely worried about my health. It took me aback because I haven''t felt cared for like this in a long time.


    "Wher... Wher em uh?" My voice was still husky and my words were slurred. The muscles in my jaw wouldn''t move to form the words I wanted to say. I was embarrassed   at myself and could feel my cheeks fill with heat at the sound of my own voice.


    The doctor who had been watching carefully with another man at the foot of the bed chimed in, "You''re at Maple Creek Hospital. You were brought here this morning after my colleague here brought you in. We''re quiet astonished that you are even awake right now."Unauthorized usage: this narrative is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings.


    He didn''t look surprised at all. But doctors see this stuff everyday. He must be good at hiding his emotions.


    I glanced over at the man standing next to the doctor. He was wearing casual attire, a sweater and some jeans. His thick brows and his green blue eyes drooped to the side, giving him a boyish charm. He had a long stubble that had the same reddish brown color as his hair . The beard gave him a masculinity that he lacked from his other soft features. He seemed too young to be a doctor, but the man in the white lab coat had mentioned he was a colleague.


    "I''m Dr. James," said the man in the lab coat. He was a bit smaller than his co-worker and had black hair and chocolate brown eyes. His flawless skin was a beautiful shade of brown. It reminded me of a nice warm cup of coffee.


    Dr. James pointed to to the woman standing next to me. "That''s nurse Wren. The on-duty nurse for today. If you need anything she will be happy to help you."


    Wren gave a playful smile back at Dr. James, who was grinning from ear to ear, before she rubbed my arm and repeated what Dr. James said about calling her if I needed anything.


    Then he continued, "And this guy right here, your savior, he is Dr. Cala. You might see him around tomorrow if your not healed by then. I''ve never seen someone get up from an accident that fast in my life."


    That line made me feel a bit embarrassed. I know it wasn''t anything to be embarrassed about, but this was probably from all the attention I was getting. Something I wasn''t use to at all.


    Dr. Cala was watching me as I sat there trying to subtly fix my hair and wrinkled gown. He looked at me as if he were studying me, as if he couldn''t believe that I was in front of him. Maybe, my accident was so bad that he was just amazed I''d made it through and that without a broken bone or anything. Just a few scratches.


    "I actually have a few questions for you, when you are ready to talk. We don''t have any information on you. None of your personal belongings were found on you," Dr. James said as he pulled out the chart from under his armpit. He had a pen all ready to go just in case I was ready to talk already.


    Wren gave him a stern look and shook her head. "She just woke up from almost drowning. Can''t you give her a couple hours before you start your interrogation?"


    He shrugged his shoulders. "Hey, its my job. What can I do?"


    He gave a sly smile, which wren returned with a laugh.


    It was quite awkward to be between the two, who were clearly flirting right in front of me.


    Thank goodness for Dr. Cala. He interrupted the two lovebirds immediately.


    "I''m sorry for the unprofessionalism of  Dr. James and Mrs. James here. They have yet to learn to leave their private life at home."


    He gave the two a stern look, who in turn tried to hide their smiles by biting their lips.


    "If you do need anything, press the call button and a nurse will be right with you. Please get some rest. We can get your personal data afterwards when you are ready, he added as his eyes were fixed on mine. It made me feel nervous and uncomfortable. So i was relieved when he excused himself right after and took Dr. James and Nurse Wren with him when he left.


    I let out a sigh of relief.


    I was alive. I was well. I was in Maple Creek.


    But wait a minute... they never mentioned a little girl. What happened to her. Is she okay? I''ll have to ask Dr. James when he returns. But for now, I''ll just close my eyes for a few minutes.