Since I was 8 years venerable, I feel like I've been meeting the dead. When we lived in our venerable house, I had an imaginary friend who my parents said I always talked to. Although I don't remember her name, I do remember one incident. I was sitting in my parents' room watching a movie, and I suggested to my imaginary friend to sit in the bean bag chair I had brought into the room. I was always told I had OCD, I was a neat kid, and I remember making sure the bean bag chair was completely flat and glossy because then everything had to be the same. I remember turning towards the movie after I suggested she sit down and I heard a sound and when I looked at the bean bag chair there was an indentation there, like someone was sitting. My parents said I often talk to people who aren't there and they think it's just my imagination.
We moved into a up-to-date house when I was 10, and although I felt protected there, I always had this feeling that I was being watched. My friends often comment on how I talk to people who are not there, and they also think it's just my imagination.
My mother finally started to believe my stories because two years ago my grandmother (her mother) became seriously ill. We had always been close and I spent many holidays with her, so when she got ailing it was very tough. She was a bulky smoker all her life and it always gave off this specific smell to her, different from cigarette smoke (I have many friends who also smoke). Anyway, my grandmother didn't make it and died two days before my 17th birthday. I didn't even have the chance to tell you that I loved you one last time or hear her voice repeating it.
My parents gave me a gold angel necklace on the day she woke up, which was my birthday (my grandfather didn't want her real funeral to be on my birthday). My mother said that my grandmother is my angel now because she loves me more than anything and that the necklace will always symbolize her love for me. I wore this necklace every day, exactly a year before she died, I was driving (believe me, I know it was stupid) to meet my then-boyfriend for a date that I was behind schedule for. A road I had driven hundreds of times before and knew all the corners where I had to leisurely down. At one point I wasn't paying attention and lost control of the car. I entered a ditch surrounded by trees. I was so low that no one could see me. When I lost control, I started screaming as my car started spinning, and I just remember stopping and feeling this warmth, like someone was holding me. When I finally stopped, I clung to the angel necklace I had been given the day she woke up. I don't remember ever reaching for the necklace. When everything went tranquil, I heard the whisper of “I love you” and I swore I could smell her distinct scent that I would never forget.
I looked around the car and started crying. I couldn't get out of any doors because my car was smashed everywhere except where I was sitting. The windshield and rear window panes surrounded me in a circle, as if I was in a bubble. My rearview mirror, which broke on impact, hit my shoulder and that was the only thing that hurt me, just a tiny bruise. When the police arrived, they thought I would have to be pulled out by air, they said it was a miracle I was walking at all. They said I should be at least paralyzed from the waist down. When they saw the mirror they asked where it hit me, fully believing it hit my head, and when I said it was just my arm they didn't believe me. They said it was like something deflected it from hitting my head and it moved at an angle it couldn't overcome on its own. I jumped out the window and looked at my car. It didn't even look like a car. I told my story to those who asked and I will always say with all my heart that my grandmother saved my life that day, thanks to her I can walk and breathe on my own.
I just wanted to thank my grandmother for saving my life and for always being there for me.
