Midnight Cove
A Brush With Death

With ticking time this tale is told,

Upon this earth the young turn old,

Innocent blood like tears are shed,

Two kindred souls bound for dead;

With past made present and their future unclear.

Only because of the terrible memories, had it been possible for me to leave. I saw my wings in the mirror, and finally accepted, I was not the human girl I thought I was. Magick had saved me from the happiest day of my life, and now, I sat and sobbed on my bathroom floor.

My wings disappeared again. Who knew how, or why? Who cared? All prospect of hope and joy for the future faded. I could not foretell the moments that would come any more than I could have guessed at the ones that led me to where I was now. I was a stranger adrift in a sea of unknown circumstance. At that moment all I had was a toilet smelling of refuse, a black wedding dress, and my memories.

I don't want to give you the wrong impression, the struggle has been worth the journey; as is the case with most epic adventures. If I could have but one more moment with him, I would endure it all again. I would risk everything for one kiss, one look. One touch from him would be a soothing balm to my burned and ravaged soul.

I am getting ahead of myself though. Let me revisit my last summer as a normal girl of nineteen. Not quite sure how many years ago now, but I do remember it was the beginning of the apex of my life.

I didn't remember my parents back then. They died when I was very young. My sister took on the responsibility of my upbringing, but she too, died within the last year. The doctors had told me it was heart failure. One morning, she just didn't wake up.

At first, I didn't want to remember any of it, but as each day passed it became harder. I couldn't recall the little details anymore. I wrote about her in my journal, worried one day I might completely forget her. With her gone, I was forced to go on alone.

Life was more good days than bad though. I was proud of my place. I had cultivated a safe space to grow and heal. A place filled with sunlight and simple happiness. I lived in a strange studio apartment above a garage; a quaint and clean space with a view of Coast Highway and the beach.

My studio and my work were both there, in Encinitas. I worked six days a week at a drive-thru coffee shop. My shift usually ended by eleven o'clock in the morning, and I enjoyed having the afternoons to myself. With my simple, white-washed doors opened wide, I liked to lie on the floor, and bask in the glorious warmth of the afternoon sunlight; the feeling of smooth bamboo floors under my skin.

My place was separated from the main house by the backyard. An older gentleman, Terry, owned the place. He liked to surf, and kept mostly to himself so I was free to be at peace. Here, I would amble through the beautiful garden filled with luscious ferns and fragrant flowers.

The town, like my apartment, was bright and warm. Filled with a laid-back, welcoming aura that many of these small, funky beach towns have here in Southern California. Huge windows faced the beach and when opened caught the salty sea breeze. I loved the free-flowing beauty that constantly surrounded me. It was almost easy to be happy when I was there. I didn't have to try as hard.

The days were my favorite, especially during those hot summer months. On clear nights, I could count the few stars outside my windows, but most nights a thick fog rolled in. The coastline was blanketed in a ghost-like ambiance. In the early morning hours, it looked as though mesh cotton had been strewn about my doors and windows. Beautiful as it was, I feared the suffocating white fog. Inexplicable feelings of cold, bitter loneliness seeped through me.

It was on an early morning just like that, when I had my first brush with Death. It was August and getting close to the beginning of the school year. I decided to ride my bike over to the junior college. Being a family of one on a very limited income the community college was the cheapest route to a higher education. I made sure to get up extra early and had set my alarm to four a.m. the night before. It was almost a ten-mile trek on my bike to get there.

The morning was quiet, and rarely did I see a car on the roadway at this hour. I was riding my bike nonchalantly, oblivious to my surroundings. My bike was a beach cruiser and had only one gear. There was no point in trying to rush. I wasn't going to go much faster. Anyhow, rushing always made me flustered.

I never saw him coming. Or, I should say he never saw me coming. A tired young kid making his early morning commute stopped paying attention, and a moment passed, barely long enough for him to hit my back tire. The driver regained control quickly. I, however, did not. Struggling to maintain, my bike was practically thrown out from beneath me as I slid across the sidewalk in a Superman dive. My arms were covered in scratches from my wrists to my armpits. As luck would have it, I hit a grassy slope, rolled down, and knocked myself unconscious. But, Life had been worse than road rash and grass stains before. So, I still considered myself lucky.

When I arrived at the nurse's station I was already conscious. I refused to go to a hospital. All around people were asking questions. My body, shaking, was still reacting from the accident. I assumed the adrenaline from the crash caught up with me. My mind, however, was perfectly at ease; my thoughts calm. I didn't feel sensitive to my situation. I began to wonder at that moment, how often did this body portray the wrong reaction?

Bent on proving my stable state of mind and body, I jumped off of the cot in the nurse's office. I flashed my most charming smile. Feigning confidence I wasn't sure I had, I decided to drive the point home. I mustered up both my courage and the smoothest voice I could possibly have after this ordeal.

"Thank you so much, Nurse Ross, but really I'm fine. I'm just going to catch a ride home and take it easy today, okay?" I asked, posing a question would probably get me more credibility points with the man. I certainly didn't want to deal with his bruised ego along with my bruised rear end. I wanted to make sure he felt I valued his opinion, even if I didn't.

"Well, alright Miss Woods, if you're certain you don't want to go to the hospital?" Nurse Ross still unsure of letting me go. Most likely weighing in the school's liability factor.

"You can call me Bonnie. And I definitely feel well enough to stay out of the hospital. Besides the bill alone would probably kill me." I mimed a noose around my neck pretending to be hanged. Then forced myself to into a practice laugh that I refer to as my 'Weather girl persona' all while continuing to smile and batting my eyelashes for good measure.

"Okay, then Bonnie," Nurse Ross chuckled along as he was suckered into the playfulness of the false moment. "Be sure to rest and come back if you have any issues with your eyesight."

"Of course," I said. "Goodbye, Nurse Ross."

If I could have skipped out of his office I would have. In all honesty, my head was killing me and all the smiling I had done was only making it worse. I wanted to get away from the attention. I tend to be an introvert and a quick healer, so it wasn't necessary for me to be there.

The nurse's office was the only room in a secluded building facing east onto a large dirt mound. I walked to the end of the open walkway and I turned left. I had nowhere in particular that I was trying to go, just as far away from the curious stares of students as I could get. I walked around the front of the cafeteria then cut behind the auto building and across the main quad. Remembering that there was a grassy clearing amidst some eucalyptus trees near the gymnasium I headed in that direction. I often saw the aspiring personal trainers and yoga instructors making use of the area.

There weren't any benches, so I had to settle for sitting on the still damp grass. As soon as I plopped down I immediately regretted the decision. Inwardly, I groaned. I stood up to check and sure enough, my entire backside was sopping wet. I rolled my eyes and since the damage was already done I decided to sit and enjoy the view as the sun began to rise. My headache was already starting to fade and without a bit of misfortune, I might not have discovered this grassy plot before school started. It was always a relief to replace a bit of good in everything. I could not help but feel that there was some sort of secret rhyme or reason for things. Life just felt magical to me. I suppose because I completely believe that each person has their own special destiny.

I lost myself in thoughts until the entire sky became a deep robin's egg blue with a few wispy clouds on the horizon. It was another beautiful day, warm and clear. One of the last fleeting days of summer. I sighed and looked around. The school had become busy while I was adrift in my thoughts. On the sidewalks and open walkways all around me, people were milling about; chatting with each other, or checking their schedules, getting ready for the start of the school year.

I sighed deeply and grabbed my backpack. I decided to head home. I knew that my bike was trash from the idle talk back in the nurse's office. There was no point in trying to salvage it. I was near the art building when I got hit; the chances were good some student would recycle it into a project, maybe even be highlighted at the Spring Art Festival. The idea made me smile as I made my way toward one of the many city bus stops placed around the campus.

There were already a handful of people waiting, which meant the bus wasn't far off. Less than ten minutes later, the atrocity arrived; as noisy and as humbling as ever. I despised the city bus and avoided it at all cost. Now, replaceing myself in a position where there wasn't much choice, I surrendered to the inevitable. Grimacing, I reached into my wallet, having no idea how much the fare was, I grabbed three dollars, figuring it couldn't be more than that.

"Riding the blue limo today?" A short, pudgy boy with light brown hair and freckles said smiling.

"Huh?" I responded, not quite sure what he meant by the comment. Maybe I was still woozy from the concussion?

"The blue limo," he said, "the city bus." He gestured with his thumb at the hideously blue bus pulling to a noisy stop at the curb in front of us.

"Oh," I smiled half-heartedly at the joke. "Yeah, I guess so," disdain still prevalent on my face.

"Not a fan of public transportation, I take it?" he asked. He was obviously eager to keep the conversation going.

"Umm," I drawled, "no, it's fine, I guess. I'd just rather ride my bike."

As soon as I said it, I wished I hadn't. I knew I was going to end up talking to this strangely unattractive and admiring boy. I probably wouldn't have minded on any other day, but after the whole ordeal this morning I wanted to forget everything, go home, and crawl back in bed.

"Oh yeah? You like bicycles, huh? What kind of bike you got? I'm Ryan by the way," and he stuck out his hand to shake. His fingers were stubby and covered in grime.

I had to smile at his enthusiasm, I would never have been in that good a mood to ride the bus.

"Bonnie," I said, as I took his hand to shake it.

His hands were warm and heavy. Working hands. I smiled a little deeper. I respected that, someone who wasn't afraid to work hard.

Again, he asked about my bike, opening the door to retell my crazy morning. Ryan was nice, almost too nice, and it was a little off-putting. He talked and asked questions incessantly. It would have been the entire ride home had I stayed, but he began to wear out my patience, and I got off a few stops early stating a lame excuse about needing groceries. He asked for my number, but in my rush to get away I pretended not to hear him.

I tossed out a "See you around!" louder than necessary and bounded off of the bus.

Once off the bus, I sighed with relief until I realized I was still about a quarter mile from home. I never had been much of a walker. I wasn't about to follow the bus line though and risk running into Ryan again, so I decided to cut through the residential streets. It wasn't a straight shot, but neither were there any major street crossings. By the time I got home, I was exhausted and sore from my morning adventures. A nap sounded like heaven, and as much as I would have loved to lie down, I was not able to yet. I still had scrapes down my arms and my butt was frozen from being trapped inside soggy pants for hours. I decided a hot shower had to be the first thing on the agenda.

I took a long, hot shower. When I got out my soft, pink skin was wrinkled from head to foot, and there wasn't a drop of hot water left. I wrapped one of my favorite fluffy towels around me, grabbed a brush and a bottle of antiseptic, and headed for the bedroom. I climbed onto the middle of my enormous king sized bed and faced the vanity mirror atop my old wooden dresser and began brushing out the numerous tangles in my wet blonde hair. Then I started administering my first aid. When I was little I would fall off my bike quite often, and my sister, Grace, would have me sit in front of her while she bandaged up my bruised and bloody knees. I screwed the cap back on the antiseptic bottle and locked it back in the medicine cabinet. I sort of hoped I could lock my feelings back in there with it. Thinking of her always left me feeling bittersweet, and a little lost.

I was hit with another wave of exhaustion as I began to think back to my sister and the morning events. Reality hit hard. Realizing that I hadn't any family to talk to overwhelmed me for the moment. Who would care if I died? The idea of escape was more than appealing. I didn't even bother the get clothes on as I slid under my mint green cotton sheets. Their soft fabric felt cool on my bare skin. I pulled up my white down comforter and snuggled in for some desperately needed sleep.