I was driving down the highway, pedal to the metal and the music blaring. The window was open, my cigarette was lit and my takeout had already been discarded. It was late, and the can of Red Bull I had an hour ago had worn off. I was tempted to pull over and buy another one, but I just wanted to get home.

But that didn’t happen. In the blink of an eye, my car flipped. It bounced a few times then rolled, eventually coming to a stop.

My head was pounding. Reaching up, my hand came away covered in blood. My legs were trapped, twisted at a horrific angle that sent spears of pain through my legs when I moved. But, something was there. A shadow against the darkness, sucking in the light, dragging the oxygen from my lungs. I couldn’t breathe. Everything started to go fuzzy around the edges. My legs hurt, my head hurt, my back and my neck hurt. For a moment, I just closed my eyes and let go, hoping to never wake again if it meant this agony.

Then something grabbed me. It pulled at my collar, and ripped me from the car, throwing me to the ground. I cried out in pain, in fear, but couldn’t move, a cripple at the side of the road.

The shadow towered over me, staring down. At first, I was to afraid to look at it. Then, with an effort, I forced myself to look up, and my jaw dropped.

It was my mother. But that couldn’t be true. The last time I saw my mother was ten years’ ago. At her funeral. Where we had her buried.