The Wind

As I walked down the street a week before Christmas I feel a sharp wind going through my bones. I shake myself, trying to get the feeling away. The sharp wind that cut through my very soul was nothing more than a memory. A memory of a car that had just missed me, but had hit Emily. My Emily Shorty afterwords I had a breakdown and was admitted into a mental hospital for schizophrenia. Apparently schizophrenia was simply my minds way of dealing with the pain of loosing my girlfriend. As merely a defense, it only took a year to recover, but I will always feel the sharp wind that I had first felt a year ago today when the drunk driver's car swerved right next to me and then hit Emily who was walking ahead of me.

As I walk, I look at the light pole. Right on the base is a picture of Emily, flowers surrounding the picture. As I drop a single flower, cold tears run down my frozen face.

"Ryan..."

Looking around, I don't see anyone I know but, looking at the picture, I see Emily's mouth moving in sync to the voice chanting my name.

"Emily..." I mutter.

"Come with me Ryan."

"I will," I whisper. Then I collapse on the ground, hugging myself and laughing.

You may call it a breakdown, but I call it a way of claiming my sanity.