[Seward, Nebraska. January 13th, 2017]

Have you ever heard the term: Your life flashing before your very eyes?

  Who hasn't?

   But anyway, that's what I find happening to myself as something completely unexpected smashes into the side of my Jeep.

  My childhood where I believed everything in the world was good, that fairies existed and lived in trees right outside our house. Family vacations. My first day at school. Winning my first singing competition. My first day at high school. First crush. First date. Prom. Graduating high school. Starting college.

  Everything flashing across my mind in the matter of seconds it takes for me to slam my breaks on.

  Oh my god, oh my god!

  I sit straight as a board, knuckles turning white as I hold the steering wheel in a death grip. My eyes stay locked straight ahead on the road that's illuminated by the headlights, heart hammering as I take deep breaths in through my nose.

  What in the world was that?

  Please tell me I didn't just kill a bear?

  My eyes flicker down to the right a little, reading the glowing letters in the dashboard: 5:45 P.M.

   I'd just left Chadron State College I've been attending for a official eight months now, driving the forty-five minutes it takes to get home.

  My specific directions I so happen to follow - because I for some reason refuse to go on a normal road, ends up taking me through Pine Ridge reservation that just-so-happens to have an old abandoned research lab that was founded in 1914.

   Which of course, people insist is haunted.

   Which is also why you can see my mind is freaking out because I'm in the middle of a thick forest and the sun is currently not up, which means it's dark out.

  And I just hit something. In a forest with a haunted research lab that was built at the beginning of WWI.

   No reason to panic.

   I peel my hands off the steering wheel, almost feeling like I needed a knife or something to pry them off they're so stiff.

   I wave them in front of my face, a expression of pure bewilderment on my face as hundreds of different possibilities swim through my head.

  What if it was a cub? I can't just leave it. It's probably in need of medical attention.

  Because yes. I might have been going a little over the forty MPH speed limit.

  Hey, there's like no one out here. You'd have done the same thing.

  Then again, it could be Bigfoot. And if that was the case, than I should be booking it up the road right now instead of sitting here contemplating life....

   I really shouldn't have watched Harry and the Hendersons last night. Really regretting that decision now.

   Okay, everything's A-okay.

  I let a long breath out through my mouth, glancing out the right passenger window as I tap my fingers on the steering wheel.

   Oh what the heck.

   I shift the Jeep into park, keeping the engine on incase I'm in need of a quick getaway. I slide the seatbelt over my shoulder, grabbing my iPhone out from my purse that's laying in the passenger seat.

   Alright Nora. Lets hope you're not making the worst decision in your life.

   Turning the classical music down on the radio I'd been listening to while driving, I slowly grab the door handle with my left hand. Phone firmly held in my right.

   No backing out now.

   I tug it open, cold air immediately washing over my body as the winter wind blows outwards from the forest. I wrap my denim jacket tighter around my upper body, wishing I'd of worn a warmer coat today.

   My sneaker clad foot steps down on the worn and cracked pavement that's called the road, a thin dusting of snow covering the top.

   That's what four wheel drive is for people.

   With both feet now firmly on the ground, I step away from my car, softly shutting the door as I wrap my left arm around my waist in a attempt to help warm myself.

  I don't do well with cold.

   Stars and a sliver of the moon glisten up in the almost completely dark sky, a owl hooting off in the distance somewhere.

  A forest of tall pine trees surrounds me, making me feel puny in-comparison to their towering height. A fresh layer of snow rests on their green needles, creating a almost Christmassy feel about them.

  I switch the flashlight on from my phone, immediately getting more light then what my slightly dim headlights are currently sending out.

   Yup. Gotta get those replaced. Mental thumbtack there.

  A blanket of snow stretches out from either side of the road, probably five inches deep by now.

   I take a deep breath, letting it out through my nose. A large puff of what looks like smoke takes up the air in front of my face, hanging there for a few seconds before dispersing.

   Come on Nora. Put your big girl panties on and get this over with.

   I straighten my shoulders, mentally shoving myself forward. I walk to the front of my car, the headlights lighting me up.

   So whatever that was, it hit around the passenger side door.

   I prepare to turn the corner of my red Jeep Wrangler, heart beating faster then when I thought I was going to get my first kiss.

  Turned out his hand slipped as he was reaching for his coke. Very embarrassing moment I'd rather not talk about.....Period.

  And yes, I've yet to actually be kissed in my measly sixteen years of life. But it doesn't bother me. Not really.

  I'd kinda prefer to wait anyway. As Captain America would say: "The right partner."

  I unconsciously find myself examining the side of the Jeep first, my light already on it.

  Crap. Mom and dad are going to kill me.

  A large-ish dent sits right in the middle of the passenger door, probably the size of a big textbook. Closer inspection reveals a slight indent in the glass window, spiderweb cracks spreading out from around it.

   Like the size of somethings skull....or someone's.

  I quickly look to my left, the light following. My heart seizes as a form illuminates from the gloom, my left hand unconsciously going up to cover my mouth.

  Oh dear god. This will not look good on my record.

   There, laying on his side in the deep snow covered ditch, is a person. A currently unconscious person.

  Oh no. No. I just hit a human being!

  I let what sounds like a squeak out, my halfway frozen hands frantically trying to dial 911.

  "Stupid screen dial technology." I hiss under my breath while my phone continues to not register the fact that I am indeed touching the screen, my feet bouncing as the cold only seems to grow colder.

   I finally manage to hit the last digit, holding it up to my ear as my eyes land back on the prone back of the person.

   Only for the phone to make some staticky, ear piercing mumbo jumbo in the background.

  I hold the phone back in front of me, my wide eyes staring down at the screen.

   No service....Which I should've known anyway seeing as I drive through here quite often. Though I guess my frantic mind can't remember these small details right now.

  I curse, eyes flickering back towards the person.

  Well I can't just leave him here while I oh-so-heroically run off for help. He'd freeze to death. Any idiot would know that.

  Which leaves only one option.

  I take a couple slow steps forward, shortening the almost ten foot gap between us. I step down in the snow covered ground, my foot almost completely covering with snow.

  Please don't be dead. Please don't be dead.

  I walk up to his left side, his back facing me as he lays on his left side, one arm underneath him, the other laying beside him.

  His - I'm assuming it's a him due to his body structure, long, black sweatpants clad legs lay unmoving in the snow. A loose dark grey short sleeve t-shirt being his only protection in the chilling weather.

  Seriously? Why in the world would he wear this outfit out here? But then again, why's he out here in the first place?

  I've heard of teenagers daring each other to explore the old research lab that's somewhere up this mountain, while it's dark out.

  Stupid idea if you ask me. Which is why I never took part in it during my high school years.

  Not to say that older people don't attempt it either. Because that'd be a lie.

  So this guy is either a chicken, or he saw something so horrendous that he risked freezing to death over facing whatever it could be.

  Or his friends dumped him. That's also plausible.

  I find myself looking through the trees, trying to spot any movement that's out of the ordinary.

  Nothing.

  Well, he also could've just gotten separated from his group.....Though that doesn't explain why he's dressed like it's spring when it's thirty degrees out here.

  I crouch down behind his shoulder, contemplating what I should actually do. There's a instant relief throughout me as I spot his shoulder slowly rising and falling with each breath.

  Good. He's alive.

Just from looking I can tell he weighs more than me multiplied by two. Which means I most likely will not be able to lift him, or drag him to my car.

  Curse my puny self and my laziness towards going to the gym in hopes I could add some muscles to my stick thin arms.

  Today really just isn't working out like I'd planned.

  What happened to going home and lounging around on the sofa in my pajamas while I watched my favorite Bugs bunny cartoon shows while eating apples and Nutella?

  Call me what you want. But there's just one simple fact about me: I like the classics.

  Maybe I could kinda dig underneath him to....remove the snow so it's not as cold, or...

  I lean in closer to him, his facial features completely obscured from his hair and the fact my light is casting a shadow over his face. I keep my light on his back, making a halo of light around us.

  My head tilts to the side as I spot what looks like a military tag attached to a metal chain laying on top of the snow in between the space of his head and chest. Letters just barely recognizable in the dim light engraved across the side facing up.

  Hmm.....

  My right hand reaches out over his shoulder on almost its own accord, aiming for the tag that's slowly sinking into the snow.

  I let a screech of terror out as a cold hand suddenly latches onto my right wrist, closing with a vice-like grip.

  I automatically swing myself backwards as the natural instinct to get away takes over, his hand releasing its hold as my butt lands two feet back in the cold snow. Both arms come up to my chest, the flashlight momentarily darkening as I accidentally cover it up.

  A shiver races up my spine, more from the pure fear I felt no longer than three seconds ago then the actual cold I'm now feeling soak through in unpleasant places.

That was freaky okay.

  The guy still hasn't moved besides his right hand that's now up at his own chest, a pained moaning noise suddenly sounding from the other side of him.

  He's in pain.....Obviously.

  I stare at his back that's moving faster now that he's conscious....Or I think he is. How else would he have grabbed my wrist?

  I tuck my right hand under my left armpit, a phantom coldness running over it once more.

  He's so....cold. No pun intended.

  I hear his breaths abruptly fill up the quiet air around us, his feet shifting as he attempts to move them.

  What now?!

  This is so not my area of expertise. Sure I have a very nurturing side as everyone I know likes to point out - or I would've been two miles up the road by now. I mean, I used to cry every time my older brother squished a bug when I was younger. Very sensitive I was.

   Yes, that was a Yoda voice. Don't ask.

   But come on, this is a completely different.....situation here. I've hit someone who could potentially be dying because of me!

   Judging by those dents, I'd say something hurts.

   I ignore my now soaking wet backside, leaning forward on my knees as I peer down at him.

   His right hand flexes a few times, his head moving as he seems to push it further down in the snow.

  Uh, I believe you want to be going up there buddy. Not down.

  I awkwardly hold my hands up, moving them around as-if that would actually help somehow.

  "Hello? Person...Sir?" I wince at how stupid I must sound, my hand with the flashlight pausing on his back in hopes I don't blind him.

  His body almost seems to twitch at the sound of my voice, another pained sound emitting from the other side of his back as he moves his right arm further up.

  "Qui es-tu?" His voice comes out quiet with a obvious coating of pain in it, a hint of unmasked confusion also evident.

   I just stare, none of those words making any sense whatsoever to me.

  Was that French?

   Uh-huh. Of course I'd get stuck hitting a foreign who can't speak English.

  Fate hates me.

   "Uhhhh." I let a quick laugh out, the sound more like something a maniac would make.

   "What?" I deadpan, blinking a few times. "Me no speak a French." I say each word clearly, making me feel like I'm talking to a two year old.

    I lean closer, my head practically hanging over his body. My flashlight moves up to his shoulder, his own head moving to his right.

    I suddenly feel like I was slapped in the face as stark, crystal blue eyes meet my own plain brown ones.

   Well. This was unexpected.

   His face reveals that he in-fact looks around the same age as me, that hint of youthfulness still evident in his features.

   A pale face looks up at me from his position on the ground, cheeks looking slightly sunken. His face is a bit wider from the forehead, leading down to a clean shaven jaw that narrows his face out to what almost looks like perfection. A two inch long white scar running along the left side of his jaw.

   Raven black hair frames his face, covering most of his forehead seeing as he's laying down. It doesn't look like it has any particular style, simply hanging to his shoulders in a shaggy layered mess.

  Uhhhh...

  He stares at me, unblinking. His eyes vaguely reminding me of ice. Which is kinda ironic seeing as we're surrounded by snow.

   There's a mixture of emotions swirling in his eyes, his attractive - yes I said that, lips set in a small grimace.

  Oh right. He's injured. Car + Human = Possible injury.

  "Can you. Understand me?" I question, a vivid image of Dory trying to talk whale popping up in my head.

   Sometimes I hate myself.

  He continues to stare, a thin eyebrow arching up over his magical eye as he examines my face.

  I suddenly get the urge to check my face in a mirror.

  Please tell me I don't have a leftover smudge of that Twix bar I had on the drive here left on my face?

  It's dark. He can't really see everything on my face. This lighting we have isn't enough.

  I notice he's abruptly started shivering, almost like it just now hit him that he's cold. He clinches his eyes shut for a second - almost like his eyes are bothering him, blinking rapidly as he opens them back up.

   I'm guessing he doesn't have much longer until hypothermia hits him, or he gets frostbite.

  "Can you stand?" I put a little urgency in my voice. "We need to get in the Jeep." I use the pointy finger and the index finger of my left hand, wiggling them in a walking sign.

  I then furiously wave over towards the Jeep that's no more then ten feet away. "So we can drive," I hold my hands up like I'm driving, turning the imaginary wheel in circles. "Away from here." I finish with.

  He stares at me a couple more seconds. Then his mouth moves, his Adam's apple bobbing as he swallows.

  But instead of getting an actual answer, he simply nods. His legs move, his shoulder lifting up as he uses his right arm to push himself up.

  I make a face, unsure if I should try to help, or just let him be.

  He grunts as he pushes himself onto his knees, his upper body completely up off the ground.

  I wince as my eyes land on his bare left arm.

  It dangles oddly at his side, conforming my suspicions about the large dent in the side of my Jeep.

  His left shoulder must've been what slammed into it.

  Pieces of snow stick to his red skin, slowly melting as it trials down his arm. The whole left side of his shirt sticks to his body from the wetness, a deep imprint left in the snow.

  I move my hands around like I'm actually helping when I probably look like some lunatic that can't catch a fly as he slowly stands up, a visible wobble in his legs.

  I find myself looking up, his tall height slightly towering over my five foot five height. His at least six foot, if not more.

  He takes a step forward, his mahogany colored leather boot clad feet trudging through the snow. His right arm goes up to his chest again, grabbing the two tags that hang there. He lifts them up, tucking them down in his shirt.

  I raise an eyebrow.

  He then wraps his right arm around his chest, firmly holding onto his left shoulder.

  He continues forward, and I glance back at the place he was just laying at. My light shinning out as far as it'll go. Which is about twenty feet. Awesome.

  Fresh tracks lead from the darkness of the forest, ending up at the side of the road. Each footprint a large distance of at least five feet apart.

  Which means he was running....But why.

  I turn back around, jogging the few steps to catch back up with him as questions swirl repeatedly in my head.

The guy seems to approach the Jeep with caution, eyebrows furrowed together as hair falls down in his eyes.

  I step in front of him, stepping up the deep ditch alongside the road. I open the passenger door, holding it open for him as I motion inside it with what I hope is a encouraging smile.

   Hopefully it doesn't look like gas.

  He looks it over again, his eyes landing back on me. He seems to look me completely over, once again making me wish I'd have dressed better today or something.

  I watch his nose flare as he takes in a extra large inhale, and I catch his pupils dilate in a odd way.

  Must be his concussion....

  He steps up the ditch in one single step, making it look easy. Then he ducks his head down, examining the inside of the Jeep like he's never before seen one in his life.

  Ooookay.

  Slowly he lowers himself down in the seat, pulling his legs in afterwards. I carefully shut the door, mentally congratulating myself for doing this good.

   This is five star stuff here.

   I turn to head around to the other side of the Jeep, those two dents making me stop as I reexamine them.

   Yup. Looks like the larger one could've been made by his shoulder and side hitting there, then the window......his head?

  Ouch.

   Those are some mega deep indents though. Almost too deep to consider anyone or anything surviving the hit.

  I snap out of my thoughts, holding my light up again as I navigate myself around the Jeep towards the drivers side.

  Opening my door, I slide in, clicking my flashlight off as the car fills with its automatic soft light from the ceiling.

  I shut the door, reaching my right arm back as I grab my seatbelt. I then set my phone down in the drink holder in between the two seats, switching the heat on high and the seat warmers on before looking over at my so-called guest of honor.

   Hey, it's not everyday I give a complete stranger a ride....More like never. But I think you get my point.

  Though I'd have preferred all this not have happened in the first place.

   He's sitting straight as a board, his back slightly angled towards the door and the side of the seat as he looks around with a wide eyes. His facial expression showing he's more uncomfortable than I am.

  His left arm continues to hang lifelessly at his side, his right grasping the door handle with what looks like dear life.

  Maybe he hit his head a little harder than I originally thought?

  I rub my forehead, a dull pulse beating in the back of it.

  Deciding I don't really want to deal with trying to explain how to buckle up, I shrug to myself, shifting the Jeep into drive.

  No point in getting more of a headache over that. He probably can't get anymore banged up than he already is.

I shift in my seat, cold water soaked all the way through my jeans and undies. One of the most uncomfortable feelings in the world.

  My fingers feel stiffer than a brick in zero degree weather, my toes almost just as cold.

  I hate winter.

  Pressing on the gas pedal, I resume my pathway towards town: Seward Nebraska, US.

  Sounds like the perfect little town, doesn't it?

  I glance over again, spotting him still in the same position as before. Only now he has his eyes clinched shut, his right hand up on his forehead.

  I feel a stab of guilt, pity mixing around with it.

  This is my fault. I'm the one who -

  I cut my train of thoughts off as another thought hits me hard in the brain. Because for some reason I didn't put two and two together.

  I'm stressed okay.

  The specific spot he hit the Jeep, the passenger side door. The way his footsteps showed he was running.

  I didn't run into him......

   He ran into me.

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A/N ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️❤️

   Hey anyone who reads this! Just wanted to say you're awesome! And you'd be even more amazing if you'd oh-so-kindly press the little star at the bottom of the screen. It looks like this: ⭐️

  So, tell me what you think?

Questions:

  Who's this strange guy that ran into her? And why?

  What's going to happen next?

Started: 8/14/17

Maggy