The stars began glowing in the lavender skies as the sun rolled behind the horizon. The days were getting shorter; the leaves beginning to turn from vibrant greens to spotted bright yellows and shades of deep crimson and auburn; and the earthy, almost sweet smell of autumn filled Noah's nostrils as he walked briskly down the sidewalk along the empty road, his phone held up to his ear and a granola bar in his mouth.
"Bro, where are you?! I'm gonna burn it! Hurry it up, or I'm telling you, the apartment will go up in flames! Mom paid the security deposit, man!" Screaming from the phone made Noah pull the phone away, and an awkward yet lightly amused smile appeared on his face.
"Sorry dude, evening classes stretched on later than usual. But don't worry, you'll be fine. This recipe is impossible to screw up. Just keep stirring the pot occasionally, making sure to gently scrape the bottom. Oh, and actually—only if you feel up to it—toss in some green onions too; they're in the fridge, in the bottom-left drawer. Once I'm there, I'll teach you about roux. But to be honest, I'll be about fifteen minutes, so just put the heat on low and keep stirring, I promise it'll be okay. I'll be there soon, bro. Stay strong." Hanging up, Noah turned his walk into a jog as he pulled another granola bar from his backpack. Two more weeks, and I can get a car; two more weeks, and I won't have to run every-friggin-where I go... I hope he doesn't burn it somehow, though.
Time passed, and as he ran along, the sky opposite the dimmed sunset darkened from lavender to indigo, and indigo to blue-black. The streetlights began popping on, and the few stars visible from light-polluted cities slowly continued to appear in the darkening sky. Noah paused for a moment, musing over the scenery slowly debuting in the sky above as he caught his breath. Ursa Major, Alpheratz, Mirach, Cygnus, Aquila, Vega, Lyra... Noah counted out the different constellations, some he could see, others he had never seen, before giving a final huff. Okay, just a little mo—
The long, chilling sound of tires screeching echoed off the buildings and down the city's concrete corridor; just up the road, a car slammed into a thick metal streetlight, the entire hood wrapping around it. The sound of twisting and crunching metal filled the streets, followed by a deafening silence. Noah's heart dropped, and his whole body shook as he thought about immediate next steps, adrenaline flooding his system. This can't be happening. Noah's mind flashed back, the sight pulling on bitter strings. He remembered that same scene, with the roles reversed. Screeching tires, crunching metal—deep inside, there was an impression that had been left on his soul; he knew—quite personally—what it was like on the inside of that vehicle, and it both freaked him out enough to almost crap his pants, and spurred him on to move forward despite his fears.
Seeing no one else was even around to do anything, he took a few deep breaths, calming his pulse as he checked the street for more cars. He sprinted to the crashed car, the sound of his footsteps filling the silence, his whole body tensing up as he approached. The air was already hazed with smoke from the screeching of the tires, but a plume of black smoke began to rise up from beneath the hood of the car. The putrid smell of burnt tires filled his nostrils as he dialed 9-1-1, making it hard to breathe both because of its toxicity, as well as the memories the smell brought back. The glass was tinted—too dark to see through. As he cautiously approached the car, he began to call out, "Hey! Hey—are you okay?! You need to wake up!" He pulled on the driver-side door handle, but it was locked, so he banged on the glass. No response.
"9-1-1 what's your emer—"
Noah whipped his phone to his face. Every muscle in his body was taut as he continued pulling on all the doors, his hands shaking. "I'm on Parkly Street, right off of Windmyst Drive. A car just flew into a streetlight! The doors are locked, and the windows are too tinted to see through. I can't hear anything from inside, but look, ma'am—they were going at least sixty when they hit the pole. There's smoke coming from the hood."
"Okay, I understand. Parkly, off of Windmyst Drive... Emergency crews are on their way—but what I need from you..." Just then, a soft pop followed by a nearly silent fizzle came from the engine. Noah's ears tuned solely to the sound of the car, the 9-1-1 operator's voice becoming just a distant hum to him as he froze in horror.
The next moment, flames erupted from the engine. Noah looked at the flames, blisteringly hot, then at the car door, then back again. A moment of vacillation later, then a sound not unlike a deep war drum went off from the engine. A huge plume of fire launched backward into the cabin. Before he could even react, violent flames flushed through every window, releasing pressurized fire and shards of glass. Noah was pushed to the ground by the force; for a moment, he couldn't make out anything as the world around him ignited in a whirlwind of searing heat and blinding light. The smell of melted plastic, burning oil, and scorched grass filled his nostrils as he dug his fingers into the earth, searching for something solid, something cool.
Minutes passed as the stars twinkled faintly through the smoke, and the dulled sounds of distant sirens, raging flames, and screaming onlookers filled his ringing ears. Slowly, as time dragged on, the pain and searing heat left him; then, the quiet black-blue sky abandoned his eyes, along with the shifting hues of deep orange and burning scarlet that filled his peripherals and colored the black smoke rising over him; finally, the ringing faded from his ears too, along with every dulled noise that had kept him tethered to his surroundings. When the world finally flickered from his awareness, it felt as if he were simultaneously sinking deep into the center of the earth and floating weightlessly into the sky. Silence screamed in his ears, empty darkness haunted his eyes, and a lightly tingling, prickling pain poked and prodded at every part of the blurring boundaries of his body as his consciousness began collapsing in on itself.
I'm not ready to go... I still have to graduate, and I never even got my car—and Ethan is waiting for me. Now's not the time for this. I need to get up, I need to move, I need to... Noah mustered every ounce of strength he could and steeled his mind to get up. His will burned, but it wasn't a matter of willpower; nothing remained to be lifted, no threads were there to be tugged at, nor anything else. He was entirely separate from his body, unsure as to whether he was even still alive.
As his mind clutched and pulled at nothing, his consciousness faded under a shifting kaleidoscope of memories, scents, and sounds that flashed in his mind; his mother's face, the smell of his best friend's house, the sound of the wind chimes back home singing in the wind, his brother's terrible cooking, that one candle that smelled like chocolate chip pancakes, all the way down to his favorite pajamas from childhood—all of it flowed through his mind in an instant. Son, brother, student, friend, cook, tutor, soon-to-be graduate, soon-to-be uncle, soon-to-be car owner, soon-to-be astrophysicist, soon-to-be, soon-to-be, soon-to-be... As the curtain fell on Noah Wright, bitterness filled his heart. He had been some things, but had so much more still left to be. Yet here he was, soon-to-be nothing, he thought.