This is an unedited, work in progress. It’s something I had been thinking about for awhile, particularly the opening line. It is going to be paranormal, of course. With some time travel. I’m not going to give away too much, particularly because it’s simply still just an idea that needs to be more developed. And, not to mention, it’s been awhile since I stuck some of my fiction writing up on my blog.
I’ve always figured there to be two types of people in this world; those who hit a deer and lived and those who didn’t live. In other words, there are the lucky and the not so lucky. My theory was based on two separate incidents when I was in 10th grade. Two different kids in my high school were in two unrelated accidents with deer. One of the kids, Tom Latchey, died when he was impaled by ginormous deer antlers. The other kid, Annie Smythe, walked away with minor cuts and scratches. In both cases, the deer were killed.
I never imagined that I would be a unwilling test participant based on my own theory.
It was a exceptionally dark and extremely stormy night. As you know, based on popular fiction, nothing good can ever come of dark and stormy nights. Absolutely nothing good unless you’re curled up in your bed with a good book. Which is probably where I should have been instead of driving down a desolate country road in the middle of a freak storm.
I never saw the deer coming. Those things are like phantoms when the only light is from lightening and headlights. Running deer are like surreal shadows until they turn their heads and you can see into their brown eyes.
Let me back up a bit so I can give you the full account of what happened prior to the slow-mo, head on crash into the biggest deer I had ever seen.
It was the beginning of my senior year in high school. Another student, one who I barely knew, was having a party and our entire senior class was planning on going. Including Damien Fontaine, the most popular and hottest guy in school and the main reason I was able to hop out of bed every morning to drag myself to the mundane leaning center that was Fishneck High. My entire four years of high school was spent crushing on that blue eyed, black haired package of male sweetness. Well, me and every other girl in Fishneck, Maine.
I was fairly certain that Damien Fontaine had no clue I was alive. I wasn’t exactly Ms. Popularity. I was more middle of the road, regular old Kat Shilling, the embodiment of average. Average student with average looks who hung out with average friends. Damien was so high above me that I knew there was never any chance for my fantasy of a hook up to happen. The only attention I ever received from Damien was when he collided into me on the second day of school, knocking my entire armload of books into the busy hallway. He apologized, helped me pick up my books and then ran off without another word, leaving me with a racing heart. Because, just for a tiny moment, he stared into my eyes and I could have sworn he noticed me. After that, though, there was nothing.
That never stopped me from wishful thinking, though. So, as I followed Siri’s navigational prowess, barely hearing her mechanical voice over the loud giggling of my passengers and best friends, I kept my fingers gently crossed as they gripped the wheel. Because, my plan was to actually talk to Damien tonight. I hoped to wow him with my personality because, as far as looks went, I wasn’t his type. He always had a blonde draped over him. I was the exact opposite of blonde. Black, straight hair and green eyes. Not as impressive as it sounds, trust me.
The party was a major disappointment. I’m not a drinker when I’m driving and everyone, even designated drivers, were wasted. It wasn’t even entertaining to people watch my fellow seniors tripping and stuttering over themselves. It was actually quite pathetic.
The other disappointment was Damien made an appearance and left with two drunk blondes. I decided, shortly after he left, that there was absolutely no reason remaining for my staying. I went in search of Lissy and Steph, my two passengers and friends. Both of them had hooked up with guys and they told me they’d find rides home. Shrugging, I pushed my way through the sea of senior bodies and found the front door.
It had been so noisy inside the house that I hadn’t realized the voluminous storm that had started outside. Gusting winds, sideways slashing rains and crashing thunder. I hated driving in storms and briefly considered going back inside to wait it out. But, my disgust over the party was bigger than my fear of storms.
By the time I found my car, I was a wet, shivering mess. I didn’t even remember a storm being predicted, it was supposed to be a nice night. Crazy weather patterns had found their way to Fishneck, lately. Really, this storm shouldn’t have come as a surprise.
I slid behind the wheel and started up my old Ford Focus. The temperatures had dropped from balmy to freezing so I blasted the heat and tied my dripping hair into a ponytail to keep it from dripping uncomfortably down my back. Plugging my dying iPhone into the charge, I instructed Siri to give me directions home. She wasn’t responding. Probably because I was in the middle of nowhere and the storm put a serious slowdown on connectivity.
Taking a deep breath, I squeezed my eyes shut and tried to recall the way I took to get to the party. I just needed to find my way to the highway and then I’d be fine. This house had been located in a maze of cornfields and side roads, though. And I was cursed with no sense of direction.
Deciding to take my chances, I slowly drove in the direction I thought I came from. I crawled into right turns and left turns until I realized I was so incredibly turned around and my only hope was that Siri would be back online and able to help me.
Trying again, I plugged my home address into the map app and hit ‘directions to here’. I sighed in relief when the familiar voice of my friend in the phone started telling me where to go.
Feeling more confident that I wasn’t lost anymore, I followed the travel instructions closely until I found myself on the main road that led to the highway home. It was still storming and dark. Bursts of lightening gave way to angry thunder. My windshield wipers didn’t work fast enough to clear my window of the onslaught of rain. The wind rocked my car as I drove. But, I was only thirty minutes from home and I figured that this type of storm would burn itself out after a few more minutes.
There were no cars around so I stupidly drove over the speed limit of 45 mph. I have no idea how fast I was going, I just wanted to get home. My phone chimed as a text came in. Here’s where I screwed up.
I looked down to see who was texting me. Only a phone number was displayed so it wasn’t one of my contacts. My heart lurched when I saw the name Damien in the body of the text. I swear, I had only been distracted for a couple seconds.
That was a couple of seconds too long. When I jerked my head up to check the road, the biggest deer was standing there staring into my headlights. If I hadn’t been driving, I would have been in awe at the massive size of this thing and how majestic his antlers were. I didn’t have enough time to react and the last thing I remember, before I crashed head-on with that deer was I hoped to be one of the lucky ones of my theory. Which, ironically, was going to be the theme of an english class paper I was starting to write that was due the following Wednesday. And then, as my car rolled over and over down into the deep ditch, I could have sworn I saw Damien standing where the deer was. I didn’t have time to really think about that too hard because I’m pretty sure I died.
I know what you’re thinking. But trust me, this is where everything in my..ah..new life..took a sharp turn from average and headed straight toward interesting.