I have to say, this was somewhat expected. Throughout all of my adolescence, adults have always told me, “Wear a helmet! You think you don’t need it, but some day it might save your life!” As the usual stubborn ass that I was, I refused to listen. Yet here I am, eyes glued to the sky, helmetless head on the concrete, laying limp in a pool of my own warm, trickling blood. My crumpled bicycle is out of my line of sight, although I think it’s gone. So is the car, so is the crying family that saw the accident, the paramedics who deemed me already lost. All gone. Though these events seemed to last mere minutes, everyone has left me here.

I don’t mind this at all. It’s quite peaceful actually. The crisp, glowing crowns of trees long ago turned for Autumn are the only things I can see. I can hear the leaves falling. Sometimes it’s a steady one after another, sometimes it’s only one every few hours. I like it. It keeps me entertained. This street in particular is quite beautiful. It’s decorated with the many colors of Fall. From my position, I can see a dark red tree, an orange one, a yellow one, and one still holding on to its last memories of Summer. If I could only turn my head to view that old willow hanging across the street… But alas, I seem to be stuck here.

I find it quite odd that no one has come to get me yet. If I am dying, shouldn’t they have taken me to the hospital? Or my family could have come see me? Maybe some weary passerby could have noticed me here? That’s another odd thing… there haven’t been any passersby. This street is usually dotted with cars. I wonder where they all are. And the animals that romp and play through the trees? Nothing. None of these things are anywhere to be seen. Maybe I’ll notice something at night, when the moonlight can point out an owl, or a couple bats by the streetlamp.

But the night never came. The animals never came with it. The cars never started passing by again.

And yet here I am. I haven’t moved, breathed, blinked, or felt since the incident. I’m not sure if the blood is still pooling around me. I can’t tell. I don’t feel anything, anywhere, at all. I can only see and think. But despite my unending situation, I cannot help but to notice the colorful environment that I’m set here with. The captivating dance of the leaves, falling together. The only changing aspect of the scenery is the disjunct rhythm that they share with one another. Despite the immense amount of time I have laid here, the trees still have all of their leaves. The cloudless sky has never been tarnished, and the sun, caught mid set behind the coastal mountains, never completed his journey. Just as I think, laying here motionless, I will never complete mine.