𝐖𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐍. ˢᵗᵉᵛᵉ ʰᵃʳʳⁱⁿᵍᵗᵒⁿ ¹

034

034. 𝗶𝘁 𝘄𝗮𝘀 𝗮𝗹𝗹 𝗼𝘃𝗲𝗿, 𝗯𝗮𝘀𝗸𝗲𝗱 𝗶𝗻 𝗴𝗹𝗼𝗿𝗶𝗼𝘂𝘀 𝘄𝗵𝗶𝘁𝗲.

    𝐍𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑 𝐈𝐍 𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐒𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐄𝐍 𝐘𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐒 𝐎𝐅 𝐋𝐈𝐕𝐈𝐍𝐆 had Lori's life flashed before her eyes like it did in those tunnels, when the stampede of demodogs skidded around the corner and bolted towards them. The moment that their shadows cascaded the wall ahead, her heart plummeted like never before, her body went subzero, and suddenly there was these flashes obscuring her vision— even when she shut her eyes. It had all happened so fast, so crazily fast that it knocked the wind out of her lungs. She thought, in that moment, that she was surely going to die. Point blank.

    She thought of her mom, first. The first thing that flashed before her eyes was her mother, Maureen Philbin, in all her beautiful, pearl-wearing, punctual aura right there in front of her. Her warm smile and hard eyes that softened for Lori only. She saw them right then, Maureen's eyes. Images of her parents arguing, the few times she'd seen tears on Maureen's face. Her beautiful face. And as quickly as her mother came into view, the image of her flashed away in a split second— replaced with a jumble of childhood memories.

    She thought of the most arbitrary events of her childhood that she didn't even recognize meant so much, until they were flashing before her in bright sequences. Her dad sitting on the couch late at night, drinking. Her parents arguing in the bathroom. Sports on TV back in Michigan. Her father's jerseys. His briefcase. Maureen's leather loafers. She thought of the thumbtacks. The dotted scars on her fingertip and the sole of her foot. And the thumbtacks led to the bat of nails, and then she got to thinking of Steve.

    His face flashed before her view, his stupid, unmistakable swoop of hair and deep brown eyes. The softest deep brown eyes she'd ever seen. The lake. She thought of the lake and the sunrise and their reflections in the rippling water. The necklace. The Bowie singing. His voice— she could hear the sound of his voice in the back of her head, telling her it was going to be okay. The cassette tape. Then his face twisted into a different version, this time all bruised and bloody. She thought of when she'd fell to the floor beside him. Felt his pulse. She thought of his pulse, now. His lips. His lips on her own on the back porch. His hands on her face. His thumb at the corner of her mouth. His driveway. His arms around her in that driveway, the night they came back from Dustin's. And that chain of events led to thinking about her cousin.

    Dustin. His curly head appeared before her only milliseconds after Steve— his cap and his dimpled smile. His little laugh. His missing teeth. She thought of the first time she'd met him, in his room when she'd asked him to pretend to like her company. And then that room, where she'd seen the demodog for the very first time. The shed. She thought about when she'd saved them both. The junkyard. The train tracks. Yanking him from the emergency exit to save his life. His curly hair.

    And then she got to thinking of herself. It was a shorter flash than the others, but it was the last before she opened her eyes again— when she realized she wasn't going to die after all. She saw herself, sitting in the back of Claudia's car on the first day, riding her bike to school, marching up to the Halloween party, marching up Steve's driveway many a' time, the thumbtacks. It was a quick flash, but she saw herself nonetheless. All different versions.

    But then the gust of wind brushed her legs and her eyes shot open to see the dogs racing past their legs— like she was merely just an obstacle for them to get around. Her life had flashed before her eyes but she didn't die. She thought she was about to. Really thought. Her chest sunk with a relief like never before and it knocked the wind out of her even further, seeing those creatures run from them. They were going somewhere, but she didn't even care to think, she couldn't even think about where, because her heart was beating in her throat and her mind was trying to register the shock of not dying after her life had literally just flashed before her fucking eyes.