Sky Fall

Up ahead, I saw lights. And I knew. I knew, right then, in that very instant, that it was him. It was where he was.

            One warm, November night, I accompanied one of my closest friends on an excursion to the movies to see “Skyfall”, the action-packed continuation of James Bond’s escapades. After two large buckets of popcorn, handfuls of Hershey kisses, and frequent sips of soda, the movie finally came to a dramatic finish.

            My friend Sara’s mother picked us up at the entrance of the theatre. She lived nearby and I planned to stay there until my mother came to retrieve me, but once inside the car, the mother insisted on driving me home.

            We had only gone about 100 yards when my cell phone began to ring. It was my sister. I answered to hear her crying. When she spoke, I thought I heard her say, “I got into an accident.”

            “What? What happened? Are you okay? Where are you,” I asked her, worried and fearful.

            “No, Hannah. There’s been an accident. Jonathan Myers just got into a really bad car accident,” she told me, choking on every word as though it were swelling in her throat. I held my breath. I knew precisely what she was about to say and yet I still prayed, as many of us do. The moment lingered, and then dragged on and when I finally heard her words, they, themselves, prolonged like the echo of a blood-curdling scream.

            “He didn’t make it, Hannah.”

He… didn’t… make… it. He… did not… make… it. Jonathan… did… not… make… it.

I think I said something like, “What? No, this can’t be true. Are you sure? How do you know? No.”

Tears streamed from my eyes, inundating my world and clouding my vision and my thoughts. The moment was so surreal, so unreal, so unbelievable and absurd and preposterous and ridiculous and crazy and unimaginable and unintelligible.

At this point, Sara’s mother had pulled into the Chase parking lot. I hung up the phone. Sara asked me what was going on. Reluctantly, unwillingly, I told her. She made no indication of shock. In fact, she and her mother questioned the information, but I knew all the while that there was no possible way it could have been misconstrued. She was in denial.

Her mother asked me what I wanted to do. We continued on our way as I continued to sob. A couple of minutes seemed like hours and my tears stopped too quickly. My mom called and when I answered, I mentioned nothing of what had just happened. I told her nothing. I did my best to cover up my tears. I played into Sara and her mother’s strange way of dealing with something so obviously wrong and shocking. They ignored it and I followed their example. I let my mom know that I was on my home and hung up.

In a matter of seconds, I saw lights up ahead. Flashing lights. Blue. Red. White. And I knew. I knew, right then, in that very instant, that it was him. It was where he was. It was where he had been.

Let the sky fall.