Driving home my heart kept catching. I’m not really sure what kept triggering it, today isn’t anything like it was on February. Nothing is graphic, but I’m writing it out below.
I remember some extremely vivid moments. Finding her, shrieking, trying to call my mother and 911 at the same time. Standing at the door and listening to the seirns come closer. Begging one of the EMTs or firefighters to hug me, or just hold me. Standing out in the snow in a light coat and slippers, clutching at my dog’s leash as the lights from the firetrucks flashed. I really remember those lights. It was so fucking cold that night, below zero. I was shaking and they wouldn’t let me back into the house. I didn’t understand what was going on, I still don’t understand why they kicked me out of the house when it was below zero and I wasn’t dressed for it. An hour later being told to get in my car and turn it on.
My brother coming in around 4:30 in the morning, me running to him and clinging. Sitting in the car as he went int and made sure there wasn’t anything that would be upsetting to see. Falling into bed at sometime after six, waking up to pick up Rae, getting to her. EVerything after that point fades and I don’t remember much of anything in detail. But that 12 hours stands out in such vivid terrifying detail.
And that hits me so hard at the most random times.