Perceptum Erroris
by Jordan Krumbine
The following story is completely fictional. If the characters contained within bear any resemblance to persons real or imagined, you should seek therapy because clearly there's something wrong in your head.
This is how it ends.
There is a cloudy, impenetrable darkness that slowly envelopes you. It immobilizes you and right when the fear begins clenching your chest and tightening your throat, you feel your body relax. The fear washes over you like a tidal wave. It is formidable. Intense.
Inevitable.
And then it is gone.
The darkness is no longer cloudy or murky. It is black and absolute.
If life is classified and categorized into unforgettable moments worth living, this is by definition the most poignant.
In the end, there is nothing. And there are no words to describe the sensation of being enveloped by this blackness, losing all sense of your body and, in the very last moments, feeling your consciousness slip away from you ... forever.
This is how it ends.
There is a cloudy, impenetrable darkness that slowly envelopes you. It immobilizes you and right when the fear begins clenching your chest and tightening your throat, you feel your body relax. The fear washes over you like a tidal wave. It is formidable. Intense.
Inevitable.
And then it is gone.
The darkness is no longer cloudy or murky. It is black and absolute.
If life is classified and categorized into unforgettable moments worth living, this is by definition the most poignant.
In the end, there is nothing. And there are no words to describe the sensation of being enveloped by this blackness, losing all sense of your body and, in the very last moments, feeling your consciousness slip away from you ... forever.
***
When my cell phone vibrated in my pocket, I knew right away that it wasn't going to be good. It's not that I had any ethereal precognition of what was to come, no, I simply never got any phone calls or text messages on my personal phone.
I stay busy enough, no doubt, but the vast majority of my incoming communication is through email. And my email comes through on my work Blackberry, not my personal phone.
I fished the phone out of my pocket and read the text message. It was from my sister, Haley. She had written: "Theres been an accident. Call asap."
I stay busy enough, no doubt, but the vast majority of my incoming communication is through email. And my email comes through on my work Blackberry, not my personal phone.
I fished the phone out of my pocket and read the text message. It was from my sister, Haley. She had written: "Theres been an accident. Call asap."
***
The darkness wasn't immediate. First, there was the sound of squealing tires. My mind was elsewhere and squeals ripped through my brain like a foghorn going off when you're dead asleep. From there, everything was a blur and I did my best to react. The sound of wrenching metal resonated and vibrated through my bones. The car spun, once, maybe twice ... it could have spun ten times around and I wouldn't have been able to tell.
And then everything stopped.
I was aware of my breathing and little else. Time has a way of slowing down in moments like this, and although the darkness was only minutes away, my mind raced through the details of the past summer, analyzing the events and second-guessing my every step.
It was in those moments before the darkness that I truly appreciated one of mankind's most profound abilities: to learn from our mistakes.
In the end, of all my regrets, the greatest was that I didn't have time to fix my mistakes.
And then everything stopped.
I was aware of my breathing and little else. Time has a way of slowing down in moments like this, and although the darkness was only minutes away, my mind raced through the details of the past summer, analyzing the events and second-guessing my every step.
It was in those moments before the darkness that I truly appreciated one of mankind's most profound abilities: to learn from our mistakes.
In the end, of all my regrets, the greatest was that I didn't have time to fix my mistakes.
