The Miraculous Second Life of Blue Eyes

You know what? Life sucks.

Like, really sucks.

You wake up in the morning and you can’t seem to get your hair just right. You probably slept through your alarm and guess what? Now you’re late. You stub your toe on the door as you rush to get your shoes. That a-hole backing out of the parking lot isn’t letting you in. Your boss yells at you, threatens to dock your pay. You don’t know if he’s serious, but why take chances? The coffee machine at Starbucks broke and now you don’t get your daily dose of caffeine. Your drive home is flooded with traffic and the radio station seems to plays ads for hours, never getting to your favorite song.

That day just sucked, didn’t it?

What if it happens day after day, week after week, year after year? Every day is an endless cycle of suckish hell.

At least you have family to help you through it.

Never let go of your family. Never.

They will be your support, even if they don’t seem like it now. Your mom sees you waking up late every morning, sleeping through your alarm. Guess what? She makes a note to wake you up now and deal with your grumpy attitude early in the morning. Hey, at least you’re not late.

Your dad has heard every possible complaint about driving, whether it’s the idiots on the road or the dumb people screaming and laughing as they charge through the parking lot, blind to the danger. He made you a CD of all your favorite songs to play. At least you don’t have to go through traffic without your favorite tunes.

Your sister or brother feels bad that while they’re at school, you’re dealing with a terrible boss. They might right you a note, make you a lunch, and make sure you at least don’t have to worry about one more thing. That little note might make you smile, at least for a minute. Perhaps it pushes you to get through the day and finish work. Because of them, you wouldn’t be so cranky with your coworkers and customers.

But that’s not my life.

Life sucks, and I know that feeling.

My name is Jules Jenson and I am the entire definition of a sucky life. My anxiety started at age fourteen, my depression two years later, right after the Accident. Nothing has been the same since the Accident.

My dad has left me. It was exactly 227 days after the Accident that he couldn’t handle it. He blamed me. He had a right to. It was my fault, after all, wasn’t it? Maybe it wasn’t, but he sure thinks it is, and so do I. He turned to alcohol, I turned to someone for support. Unfortunately, they were six feet under. Nothing.

Well, Tank. I had him, but he can’t dig me out of this hole.

Things got worse and well…you’ll just need to hear the whole story. Please, stick around. There are things you should know about The End. Not just an end, like the end of a book, but THE END. As in, the last breath you’ll ever take.

You’ll also want to hear what happened after.

It was a miracle, what had happened to me, the second chance I got. But the thing is, you’ll need to hear my story, all of it. And this second life I got…well, you could call it my miraculous second life. Yeah, let’s just call it that.

Please, stick around. You and I both need to hear some things.

It all began on that one night, the night that started The End….

The Night of the Accident…

“Mom, mom, stop it! I can carry my own photography bag!” I chuckled lightly. My mother’s eyes twinkled, just two bright blue lights in the dim surroundings of backstage. She slugged my photography bag over her shoulder, along with my camera tucked neatly in the nice little pocket where it would sleep safely.

All she could do was pat my shoulder gently as I led her around the twisted hallways. “Don’t worry about it, Jules. I’m just glad that they could get me a pass back here to see what you get to do. This is just a little payback for helping me get back here.” She responded softly. Stage hands swarmed around the boxes, anxiously picking things up and cramming into a hectic mess of organization.

“I’m going to see if I can talk to Austin, okay? It’s the third concert I’ve shot of him and I know he always likes to see how the pictures turn out.” I said, stopping her in a little back corner. Her eyes lit up, nodding. I love my mom to death. She’s always been so supportive of my concert photography. It seems like a reckless, ill-informed career, but she takes each concert in stride and is willing to drive or help out with whatever I need.

I take my Nikon camera from her and pat her arm gently. The Of Mice and Men show was great tonight and I wanted to tell Austin that. The band has always been a big inspiration to me and I’ve been honored to get to be one of their photographers tonight.

“Wait!” My mom called, grabbing my arm and pulling me close, whispering in my ear, “Is he the screaming Mexican?”

I laughed, shaking my head, “No, that’s Pierce the Veil.”

“What about the scary guys?”

“Motionless in White?”

“Yeah, those?” She looked worried for a moment. I shook my head again, “No, not them.”

“And the-“

“Not Sleeping with Sirens either, Mom.”

Her brow furrowed.

“British?”

“Nope, not Bring Me the Horizon, just good old American screaming.” I chuckled. She nodded and let go.

“Say hi to him for me.” She bid me farewell as I went to go talk to Austin. He was in a back lounge area, chilling with the rest of the band and talking to Alan. I nervously approached him, my social anxiety kicking into play. There’s a reason I want to be in the pits instead of in the crowded fan’s section. I hate crowds and just going up to people I don’t know so well. Sure, I’ve talked to Austin a couple of times, but only to get some single pictures of him. He seems pretty cool.

“Excuse me?” I knocked on the door frame, tenderly gripping the camera in my hands. Austin looked up, the band falling silent. Tino grinned at me.

“Hey, you’re that photography girl!” The drummer exclaimed. I nodded, blushing at their recognition. Austin patted down on a seat next to him, gesturing for me to come and take a seat. I hesitantly plop down, turning my camera on with fingers shaking.

“Her name is Jules, come on, Tino.” Austin shook his head. I smiled slightly, mentally thanking him for remembering my name. Alan laughed and punched my shoulder lightly.

“Got any pictures to show us?” And yes, I did. I showed them all the great shots I had gotten, each oohing and awing at the right moments. I basked under their glow of affection. Austin looped an arm around my shoulder, leaning in to see clearly. I might only be sixteen and he’s only twenty two, but he’s still looming over me, a great advantage in height.

It might’ve been an hour, maybe less, but my mom hadn’t come to get me and the band seemed to enjoy my presence. We talked about everything and everything. Phil asked about my interest in their music, Alan asked about my photography. Austin questioned me about my mom, which I was happy to answer.

A wave of tiredness swept over me and pulled me out into a riptide of sleepiness. I yawned slightly as the boys chattered quietly.

“Thanks for having me back here, but I should go. It’s already midnight.” I shook hands with them as I checked my phone for the time. Austin gave me a bear hug, which I was forced to return or drop my camera in the process. I laughed. He held out his phone number on a small slip of paper.

“Hey, I’ll give you a call when we come into town, okay? I want you to be our main photographer next time. I think we’ll be able to give you more access to backstage. Bring your mom as well. She seems nice.” Austin suggested. I nodded and exchanged my own phone number, feeling flutters of excitement rise up in my chest. Woah…he actually wanted me to come back! This was great news!

“Thanks, I’ll be sure to clear my schedule when you come back.” I nodded. He hugged me one last time before I skipped out of the room, yawning all the way back to my mom who had passed out by my photography bag. The crowds had wound down and I shook her shoulder.

“Mom, we have to get going.” I whispered. She opened her blue eyes sleepily at me. I had the same colored eyes as hers, stark blue, like that of a crisp winter sky.

“Can you drive home? I’m feeling really tired and don’t know if I can stay awake.” She said. I bit my lip, nodding slowly. I can’t tell her that I’m just as tired. I wanted to make sure we got home okay, but I didn’t want to drive in this state.

I might as well just suck it up.

“Sure.” I grabbed the keys as we headed out into the lot. I threw my equipment in the back and then we were off into the void of night.

The venue was an hour away from my house, but it was pitch black and deathly quiet on the roads. Few cars passed by us. I took a back road instead of the highway. It was prettier this way, even in the night. The stars shone down quietly, biting back their anxious breath.

I turned off the radio as my mom snoozed in the passenger seat. At the absence of sound, she stirred. I turned to her for a moment, just smiling, a silent way to thank her for putting up with the late nights.

“Jules, you’re an amazing photographer and I’m so proud of you. I love you, dear.” She whispered. I smiled, taking her hand and squeezing it.

“I love you too.” I whispered, and turned my attention back on the road.

It happened twenty minutes later.

We were half way home. The radio was off, the tires humming a sweet lullaby. I closed my eyes for half a second, just a yawn. I must’ve been out longer than that because my senses started to shut off. I started to see Austin behind my eyelids. I had to be dreaming.

And then the wheel jerked…

And the horn blared….

And the truck lights were right in my face….

And I screamed….

And I swerved….

But it was too late.

Notes

Hello everyone! This is the beginning of another new story that I've started. It's all about second chances and what happens after a girl commits suicide. There will be parts that are very triggering, but I'll warn you guys of that before it comes up. I hope you enjoy reading this story and don't forget to leave a comment/vote/subscribe!!!

I love you all and stay beautiful!