Dark Déjà…

Dark Déjà Vu Thought

first time I have shared it in its entirety

a hard write

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“NO”, the little voice in my head screamed “NO don’t go back there. The pain will be unbearable”. 

“I know” I thought as I watched the scene from a distance. The car laid on its side, my limp near lifeless body was a step stool for my friend to use as she climbed out of the car.  

“But the injury is not life threating, so I have to go back”.

I took a metaphorical deep breath and braced myself for the agonising return to the body. I laid still upon the return to my body bewildered by what had just taken place. 

“Is she a live?” I heard voice one asks.

Another asked “Should we get her out?”

“No” it was her friend the nurse “best let her get out herself”.

I stirred. the length of my arm stopped at the window frame of the car door.

“Wow, worse than I thought I’ve lost the whole hand”. The deepening shock protected me from the pain that was to come when I was fully connected to the body. The disconnection between the body and me was a protection that allowed me to slowly extract my arm from between the car and the road.

“Arrrggg, my hand is still the JUST”, I groaned internally.

Head spinning, I raised the body up ever so slowly and stood inside the car. Everyone smiled. 

“Oh, you’re alright” the collective signed.

I looked up unable to speak as all my energy was used to keep the body standing. Gently I raised my right hand and placed it under the left hand. Cradling the left hand in the right I slowly lifted both hands to the top of the car.

The collective gasped in horror when they saw my hand.

“Call an ambulance” someone shouted in the distance even though they were standing only a few feet away from me.

A policeman arrived and suggested they helped me out of the car. Once I had left the protection of the car the barrier between the body and me disappeared. I fully connected to the body.

Sure, enough as soon as I was aware of being in the body the only sensation was pain. NO sense of body, breath, hot or cold just all-consuming pain. All could I was scream and scream and scream, no tears.

Many years later I found my-self lost in what seemed to be more than a memory of the family room where I grew up. I was looking down at my 10-year-old self. A momentous realisation washed over me like a tsunami filled with so many emotions that I was once again in the place of bewilderment. My 10-year-old self-sat staring at her up turned hands. Slowly her head tilted up, it was as though my 10-year-old self could see me, the 28-year-old me. Looking directly in my eyes the 10-year-old me ask a silent question.

“If I was to lose a hand which one….would it be?”

By Jennifer Forrest

From: Australia