“I love that. LOL”
“I love that. LOL,” I type with the pads of my fingertips until my body is thrown to the passenger side of my car and my head shatters the window. I then remember just laying on the side of the exit to Starbucks, half lifeless-half alert. I’m awake, but I can’t get the word “help” out of my mouth. Before I know it, a woman in a long, floral skirt and a long-sleeved maroon shirt frantically run towards me, soon a crowd of people wanted to see my bleeding, broken body. Then I hear, “Everybody clear! Retired EMT!” Ask me what he looked like? I couldn’t tell you, as my eyes shut then jolted open as the retired EMT shrilled, “stay with me!” The last thing I remember from that hour was getting into the helicopter.
It felt like three days of being asleep but thank God I wasn’t. I put my hand up to my face. I can feel a snake-like tube in my nose. I look down to see my left leg in a cast, then to my right to see that white Starbucks cup. I cringe. At least I don’t have amnesia!
A young woman in navy blue scrubs came into the room, I guess to check my vitals. I noticed the “Saint Anselm College” logo on her left breast. My thought immediately went to my brother’s girlfriend, who used to go there.
“Hi, um, where am I exactly?”
“Portsmouth Hospital, sweetie. In New Hampshire. Your family was here earlier, but you were sleeping, and your father had to go to work.”
In disbelief, I remain silent until a woman in magenta scrubs (who looked just five years older than the Saint Anselm girl) comes in and says,
“Oh! You’re awake!”
Still silent and at a loss for words. Did I forget how to speak?
“So, let’s put it this way, this,” she holds up a shattered iPhone – mine. “This could have cost you your life. One or two angels must really like you up there! But still you’ve managed to sustain a concussion, thirteen broken bones, and internal bleeding.”
It’s the little things in life that make us feel invincible, and that nothing as bad as what happened to me, Lainey Arlyss. It’s also the little things in life that we take for granted, and even the bigger things – like life, itself. Whatever I “loved,” was obviously more important than my life at the time. It was not. One can “LOL” at life all they want, but it can cost you your sanity, self-worth, or even your existence.
April Frances Federico is an up-and-coming poet, journalist, activist, and visual artist. She has a specific ardor for women's rights and Title IX issues. She is a huge literature nerd studying Creative Writing with minors in Arts Management and Visual Arts at Roger Williams University. She is also the voice behind The April Diaries and her work has been published in Rose Quartz, Ayaskala, honey & lime lit, Kissing Dynamite, Satin Soulbits, and HEAL(er) Mag.
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