White. Everything around me is white. I feel like I'm floating. On what, I'm not sure. Really, I'm not. I have no idea how I got to where I am. The last thing I remember is walking down a deserted road because my car broke down. How did I get here? How am I going to get out? I honestly don't know.

Now, where should I start? Maybe with where I am. Everything is pure white. It almost burns my eyes, but for some strange reason, it doesn't. I think I can spot a small patch where the white is more the color of an eggshell. More gray. I walk towards that patch. I look down at my feet. They seem to be covered in some sort of strange mist. It laps at my ankles, but I can't feel it. I pinch myself, just to see if I'm awake, and feel; nothing. Absolutely nothing. Panic begins to take hold, and my vision fades. Shaking my head, I try to clear the spots that have appeared, making me unable to see properly.

Finally I manage to calm myself down. I bite my lip, hoping it's just a dream. After all, I felt nothing when I pinched my arm. The small spot of gray-ish white is just below my feet. I fall to my knees and stare down. It changes from the color of an eggshell to the road I was walking. Except; I can see myself. I can see myself walking on the side of the road, grumbling about the unfairness in the world. I gape at my reflection. What theā€¦?

A small sound grabs my attention. My earlier self, at least I think it is, haven't heard it. The large headphones block it. I'm pretty sure that my face shows pure horror as I watch myself get thrown off the road as a truck hits me. But how could it? I was walking out on the far side. It shouldn't have been able to. Yet, it apparently had.

I start to sob. I want to go home, to see my family again. But now, after seeing what'd happened, I could only hope that I wasn't completely dead, or if I was, that my family could move on. I sniffle and stand up. No use in blubbering like a small child. However comforting it feels, now is not the time. When I figure out what happened and where I'll go from here, then I'll cry. I'll wail like a kid on it's mother's lap after a fall. I think I deserve it.

I look around. A little to the left is what looks like a door. The area is slightly blackened, and I feel like I should never go near it. So I make a decision, and turn away.

By now I'm wandering aimlessly. With no idea where or how far I should go. Really, someone should make a map of this place. It wouldn't help me or anything, but it could help people that ended up here in the future. No use in making life, if I could call it life, difficult for them. Help the coming generations. Or so I think. Feel free to disagree.

A small spot of white start glowing, and I turn to watch it. It gets brighter and brighter. Until it is so bright I have to shield my eyes. There's a comfort in the light. Almost like it wants me to come close, to walk towards it and let it embrace me. But still, there's something holding me back. Something that tells me I should turn around and wait. So I do that. I ignore the light, however difficult it is for me to do so, and instead I look at the eggshell colored spot where I watched myself get hit by the truck.

Time is non-existent here. I've no idea how long I've been here, but I can guess that it's been some hours at least. It could even be months. Both the black door and the pulsing white light are still there, but I ignore them both. I've decided to wait; to see if waiting could have an impact on how everything would be after this. If me sitting here can somehow transfer me back to my world.

Okay, I'm starting to get bored. The small peeking patch, as I call it, shows me nothing new, and I'm tempted to go through the light. There's no way you can get me to go through the door. I get up and kick uselessly at the mist lapping at my feet. Sighing, I pinch the skin between my eyes. Honestly, this silence, this nothing is making me edgy. I feel like strangling something, which wouldn't exactly be easy here.

I hear a beeping noise. I can't tell from where it comes, but it gets stronger, and more annoying. I groan at the big nothing when I hear slurred voices. Seriously, this place has messed with my brain! Why are the voices getting louder? And why can't I understand them?

I feel a small jolt, like I've been lifted, and a voice close to my ear becomes clear. It asks if I can open my eyes. Why is it asking? Who is it? Just let me be alone! All of the voices are getting closer and I start to recognize words.

All of a sudden, a severe ache fills my whole body. I can't move, but my eyes open to a much too bright light. A dark face comes into my field of vision and turns the light down. It looks like he's smiling. At least I think it is a man. It could be a woman. I don't care. I'm alive, I think. Death can't be this painful, or have this incredibly annoying beeping. Or can it?

An engine roars and I can feel vibrations, but they're soft. Like whoever's driving is trying to make it as comfortable as possible. The vehicle, or so I think, starts to move and a loud blaring of something makes my ears hurt. I clamp my eyes tightly shut and a hand gently prods at me. A female voice asks me to open my eyes again, to stay awake. Huh, guess I was wrong about the gender after all.

I look up at the white roof of the hospital. A couple of months have passed, and today I get the news. The news telling me if I'll be able to fully function. The damn nurses haven't let me get up from my bed and all of this lying about is making me go crazy! I want to get up. I want to walk. But most of all, I want to go home. My family has visited me, but it just isn't the same.

I sigh deeply. Looking at the bustling activity outside my room with glass doors, I think back at the white space. How peaceful, and utterly infuriating it was to be stuck there. I certainly know what I won't do when I get out. And I know that I'll remember it for the rest of my living days.

Never, ever again will I take life lightly. It's something to be cherished. Something to be protected. Something to enjoy and never take for granted. The only sad thing is that it took a severe accident to make me see it. To make me see the wonder life is. And I know that when my time comes, I will have more respect for the life I've lead. The life that was almost taken away from me by an inattentive driver, and given back to me after he realized what'd happened.

I don't blame him. I've been inattentive, too. Instead I respect him for having the courage to call the authorities and waiting for them at the site. And I'm thankful he took the time before he went to trial, even though I didn't press charges, to actually meet me at the hospital and apologize.

But even though I don't blame him, I can't help but wonder how my life would've been if he'd never hit me. Would I have hit someone? Would I have made that particular mistake? Would I be responsible for destroying someone's life, just because I was tired?