Tumbling Rock

“Tumbling Rock”
By: Joseph Michael Webb
November 6, 2009

The drive north on highway nine meanders and conjures
thoughts of nature’s miraculous beauty, splendor, and grace.
Trees pass my passenger window as a dizzy fog of green.
Wildflowers of purple, yellow, and red line the roadway
as we rise in elevation toward the pinnacle of the mountain.

Inside the car, my sister’s laughter carries wildly,
masked only by the electronic beats of the dance music.
I feel at peace with the world, as if nothing could harm me.
Gin’s obnoxious singing passes easily through the open windows,
Greeting the cool mountain air like a warm welcoming.

The pavement before me lay like a grey river, taking me away.
I close my eyes for a moment as we approach a tight turn,
Signaling an immature fear within me about the tiny guard rail
that sits to the left of the road, protecting us from a tumbling fall.
Without warning I hear a freakish shrill of fear escape Gin’s mouth.

The brakes squeal as she hammers down on the pedal.
Quickly my gaze is turned toward the mass of falling jagged rocks
That jump from the mountainside on the right onto the road below.
Within seconds, smaller rocks crash into the windshield,
Leaving me without the ability to create a single sound.

Gin loses control of the car as she turns hard on the wheel.
As rocks cascade down upon us we hit the miniscule guard rail,
And in slow motion we fly off the edge of the mountain.
“this…isn’t…happening!” yelled my sister in a cry
As the fall feels like an eternity while we strike trees and rocks.

With a gigantic thud we crash into the valley below,
The windshield is obliterated and the fiercely hot engine lay in our laps.
Dazed, and seeing in tunnel vision, I whimper as I see my hands,
my legs, and chest smothered in singed blood
I am unable to think, all reason has ceased and fled me.

My vision fades to blackness as I gasp for breath,
Noting the intense heat I feel throughout my body.
After an undetermined time I awake in the crushed vehicle,
Suddenly, I feel panic—what about Gin!
My neck and back are nearly too sore to move to see her.

When I manage to turn my head, I see her as I attempt to cry.
Her body remains motionless, her beautiful auburn curls burned,
shredded, and matted into a melted hat of decay.
The redness of the sticky substance piled everywhere.
I try to reach for my cell phone in my pocket, but my arms won’t move.

With all the commands I could invoke within my mind, I could do nothing.
I relax my head to its natural position on the cushion
and I fearfully await the black splotches to form in my eyes,
to sail me away on that gray river towards death’s merciless haven.
My breaths become shallow and irregular as I drift away…