July 1st, 2022
1:00 AM
It suddenly started raining. The weather forecast had said otherwise. Whatever. My whole body ached with pain. It had been a long and miserable day. I was never taking round-trip flights just to save some money again.
My father seemed exhausted as well. Considering his age, he shouldn't have been under this much pressure. Everything was for my sake.
That wasn't our main worry right now.
We were just praying to get home safely.
Why?
Because at this hour, only one driver was willing to take us to our destination, and he was drunk.
On top of that, he charged us double the usual fare.
The road had grown slippery from the rain. The bridge ahead was the biggest obstacle, with a nasty turn in the middle.
The drunk driver was handling the car fairly well, so I hoped nothing would go wrong.
Exhaustion crept over me. I rested my head against the window and started dozing off.
I didn't realize I was about to fall asleep.
Suddenly, I heard my father screaming at the driver.
I jolted upright. The driver was completely senseless.
My father kept shouting, trying to reach the driver's seat, but nothing worked.
The car began shaking violently as we reached the middle of the bridge.
After desperate attempts, we couldn't wake the driver or reach the driver's seat.
As we neared the sharp turn, my father opened my side of the passenger door and pushed me out into the storm.
"Take care of your sister and mother,"
was the last thing I heard as I saw the car crash into the bridge's edge.
I think the fall from the moving car broke both my legs and my left arm.
As I desperately tried to lift my head to see what had happened, I saw the car hanging off the edge of the bridge.
I started hyperventilating, completely lost. My whole body felt shattered from the fall.
I reached into my pocket for my phone, praying it hadn't broken. When I pulled it out, the screen was cracked.
After several tries, it finally turned on. I quickly dialed emergency numbers, then remembered we were in Bangladesh. Emergency numbers don't work here.
I tried calling my journalist uncle, hoping he would answer, but the call went to voicemail.
Fear and hopelessness crept in.
Then, out of the blue, a loud cracking sound dragged my attention back to the car.
The car was barely hanging when the worst happened.
"THE CAR STARTED TO FALL."
I screamed for my father, hoping for a response, but I heard nothing.
There was no time. My body was ruined. I couldn't even guarantee my own safety.
Guilt poured into my mind. I would never get the chance to thank him for everything he had done for me.
There was nothing I could do.
"THE CAR FELL."
In that instant, my heart began to race.
Everything around me was covered by something unknown, resembling shattering glass. The rain stopped midair.
Then someone whispered into my ear:
"REBIRTH."
Both my legs and arm snapped back into place at once as my injuries began healing. I felt my legs properly for the first time in two years.
My body started moving on its own. I sprinted toward the edge of the bridge where the car had crashed.
The car was suspended midair, as if time itself had stopped.
I jumped, grabbed my unconscious father, and ran.
Even though I saw everything, it felt as if my mind couldn't process it, or rather, I couldn't control my body.
When I finally regained control, I found myself standing in front of the Central Medical Hospital of the district, my father on my back.
I stood there, confused, with no understanding of what had just happened.
A nurse carrying a stretcher noticed us and immediately ran toward me.
"Whatever happened, you can tell us later," she said. "You seem fine, but he's in bad shape. Get him onto the stretcher. Now."
She showed no concern for me as we rushed inside. She called for an emergency and brought a doctor. My father was taken into the ER.
I stood in front of the reception, trying to make sense of everything. The receptionist kept staring at me. At one point, she tried to speak, but no words came out.
I wasn't keeping track of time, but after what felt like five to ten minutes, the same nurse returned. She asked me to follow her into an office, handed me some water, and pointed to a chair.
"You're in luck. Our last doctor was about to leave when you brought your patient in. He's our eldest neurologist, so the patient is in good hands. Drink some water and slowly tell me what happened. You look terrified."
"I… uh… um…"
"Calm down," she said. "I'll ask the questions. You'll answer with one word."
"Y-yes… go ahead."
"What's your name, and what's your relation to the patient?"
"I'm Al Sa—"
(I think it would be better if you don't tell your real name.)
"What?" I froze. "Who said that? Who's here?"
"Please don't panic," the nurse said carefully. "Only you and I are here."
(You're really hopeless, aren't you? Let me help you. One last time.)
My mouth moved before I even decided to speak.
"Yes. Sorry. My mistake. I have a minor psychiatric condition. My name is Al Shinsei. I was the third passenger in the cab we booked from the airport. The other two were the man I brought in and his disabled son."
(What the hell is happening? Why am I talking on my own?)
"Oh my God," the nurse whispered. "Please don't tell me—"
"Yes. Your suspicion is correct. Our car crashed in the middle of the bridge. I managed to get out in time. I also managed to get the disabled boy out unharmed. The man, however, was injured in the crash."
"This is serious," she said. "We need to inform the fire department and the police. What about the cab driver?"
"According to my calculations, the driver is already dead. His body is likely under the river along with the car. Even if I could retrieve him, I wouldn't. He was drunk while driving."
She exhaled slowly. "Tell me the exact location of the bridge."
"It's the bridge connecting _______ with _______ over the _______ River.
Approximately forty-five kilometers north."
"That's quite far. Can you tell me the exact time of the crash?"
"It's 1:59 a.m. now. The crash occurred around 1:43. Another car passed shortly afterward, so we weren't stranded long."
"No time to waste," she said, standing. "I'll inform the head nurse and contact the nearest fire department immediately. You should use the washroom to clean yourself up."
After saying that, she practically ran away.
The moment she disappeared, I felt my voice return to my control. I tested it.
"Hello. One, two, three. Mic testing."
No problem. My voice was fine.
Why did everything feel so small? Had I become a giant?
No. That wasn't the real issue. I could walk. Properly. Like before. Worse still, there was a creepy presence at the back of my mind, a whisper as if something was trying to take over my body.
A jinn? No way. I recited Ayatul Kursi.
This wasn't a dream.
My father had been fatally injured.
My head started spinning. I needed to wash my face.
The washroom was surprisingly clean. I relieved myself first. I must have been holding it in for hours.
I leaned over the sink and splashed water onto my face.
When I looked up, my body froze.
The reflection staring back at me was unmistakably mine. I knew my own face, and yet it was different.
This wasn't the cancer-ridden, paralyzed teenager I remembered.
I pinched myself, slapped my cheek, and even punched my arm.
It hurt.
"It's me," I muttered. "I'm not dreaming. This is real."
If I had to describe my body, I would say I was over six feet tall, built like a professional fighter.
I don't know how long I stood there, staring blankly, trying to understand it all. Eventually, a knock echoed against the washroom door.
Outside stood another nurse.
"The patient is stable," she said calmly. "He has a fractured leg and a minor head injury. Dr. Daniel is finishing the reports in his office. Before you meet him, you'll need to fill out some paperwork at the reception. The head nurse is there as well."
She guided me over. I filled out the forms using the name Al Shinsei.
The head nurse explained that the fire department was already on its way to the bridge. Since it was late at night and the case might involve the police, she advised me to rest at a nearby hotel and asked for my phone number.
"My phone was broken to smithereens," I said.
After a brief pause, she handed me a hotel business card and told me to stay there for the night.
I left the hospital.
Somehow, I completely forgot to meet the doctor or ask more about my father.
At the hotel entrance, a man stood smoking. One look at my torn clothes and dried blood was enough for him to shoo me away, claiming all the rooms were booked.
I showed him the business card and said the head nurse from Central Hospital had sent me.
"The head nurse?" he repeated.
"Yes. Our car crashed near the bridge. There's a patient of mine at the hospital."
His expression changed instantly.
"You should've said that earlier. Come inside. I'll give you a room, free of charge."
He led me in, took a key from the reception, and guided me to a room on the third floor. After handing me the key, he told me to wait. A few minutes later, he returned with a fresh set of clothes, advised me to rest, and left.
I locked the door and changed.
As I did, something slipped from my pocket and hit the floor.
My phone.
I picked it up, oddly unsurprised.
No cracks. No damage. Fully intact.
After turning it on, I called my mother.
When she answered, tears spilled down my face without warning. She called my name again and again.
Just as I was about to speak, dizziness washed over me. My vision blurred, my body grew light, and I collapsed onto the bed.
Everything went dark.