I had a dream the other night.
I was riding in a car that my family hasn’t owned for years.
It was a really old mostly blue suburban. I say mostly blue because at least a
quarter of the paint had chipped off over time revealing brown rust. I sat in
the passenger seat of the vehicle while my brother Jace drove. We were in a
canyon that was unfamiliar to us. It was snowing outside and the snow was just
beginning to stick to the road as we entered the canyon. The further we drove,
the deeper the snow became. The snow and our nerves were both increasing
exponentially. We were driving quite slowly but eventually it didn’t seem to
matter. We were going downhill as the road turned to the right. We just
continued on forward despite the car’s efforts to turn. It was at this point
that we realized there was nothing to stop us. There was an old fence made of
only wood that looked quite feeble. On the other side of the fence was a cliff
that was so high up we couldn’t even see the bottom. And just like that we hit
the fence and continued over the cliff. There was a moment that the car seemed
almost weightless. In that moment, so many things went through my head. Fear
was clouding most of my thoughts, but I remember thinking that I could
potentially open my door and jump to the side of the cliff and perhaps live. I
then realized that only I would live and Jace would plummet to the bottom of
the canyon. That thought froze my body. After that instant was over, I knew we
were both dead in a matter of seconds. We started to gain speed. My stomach
wrenched into my chest. Not because of fear, but because we were falling so
fast. Surprisingly, I wasn’t afraid at all. I knew I was going to die. Dead
doesn’t seem to frighten me. The thought of not knowing when death will come
frightens me. I still couldn’t see the bottom, but I knew it had to be close. Death
was seconds away and I was as calm as ever. I cleared my head and closed my
eyes. I was ready to die.
Then I woke up.
