The blurred lights of the highway flashed past as glowing orbs of red and orange. The “whirr” of passing cars sent shocks and trills of excitement through my body and as I stepped closer, the wind blasts from the cars flew at me with no hesitation. Suddenly there was a screeching of brakes and the crunch of metal. My eyes leapt to a terrible scene of warped metal and broken glass. Time froze until the piercing screams of the sirens penetrated the night and the vivid flashing lights assaulted my eyes. The whine of the engine slowed until it sat growling, the lights still flashing luridly against the night. The cars on the highway had stopped and their lights now shone as beacons in the dark.

                                                   …

                                   Never cross the highway.

                                                   …

In the daylight it was easy to forget the flashing lights and the siren; the crunch of metal and the shattering of glass. The lights weren’t so bright, but the cars blazed by at a quicker pace and in greater numbers. Still, the exhilaration was gone and the excitement dried up with the sun.

                                                  …

                                   Never cross the highway.

                                                   …


Night again. The steady blur of lights is set at intervals tonight. Less orange and more red. The receding lights glowed ominously at me through the darkness. One of the tall lights at the side of the highway flickers and goes out. The rusty metal form is thrown into the dark shadows of the night. The electric buzz of the straining energy overtook the silence of the night but through its struggle, the light did not prevail.

The headlights now swerved as beacons, warning me when danger was close. They were now the only sources of light; the only reason I chose to cross the highway.

                                                  …

                                   Never cross the highway.

                                                   …

Another few steps and I was across the left lane, across the glowing median, almost at the other side. Suddenly the darkness that had enveloped me shattered and harsh lights sprang upon my face and my exposed presence. At once I knew it was over. The lights blinded me and all I could hear was the screeching of brakes; all I could feel was the impact of hard metal; all I could smell was the putrid scent of gasoline; all I could taste was the tang of blood; and all I could see was black.

In time the sound was replaced with the harsh, discordant screams of the siren. I could feel my body being lifted; I could smell the sanitary inside of the ambulance; I could taste my salty tears; and I could see white; bland and absolute white.

                                                  …

                                   Never cross the highway.

                                                   …


The screaming of the sirens pierced the night again, but in time that faded too. The white never went away though. It pushed at my unconsciousness, causing me to fill myself with it. Assaulting my blind eyes, the white grew until it was replaced with a throbbing red. The siren rang out again, stabbing at me and sending tirades against my brain.

I thought briefly back. This was just a nightmare. I would wake up, open my eyes, and I would be standing at the edge of the highway, staring across it, but never crossing it.

After what seemed like hours, the white dimmed and once again I could see the blurred lights of the cars, yellow and red. I could feel the tumults of wind pushing against my body. I could hear the muted “whirr” of the speeding cars. And I could hear the muffled screams of the ambulance as it carried me away.