WHO WAS PHONE?
Driving home in VT. Late afternoon come to a four way stop. Stop, no cars, release the break and hear a loud male voice say STOP! I press the break and as I do a car flies through the intersection going at least 50 mph. Scared the crap out of me.
Unexplained scars. Each appeared overnight. The cause of the scars is completely unknown to me.
When I was 13, I woke up with what were apparently three large, already-healed wounds across my back. They looked like lash marks from a whip. They didn’t hurt.
When I was 19, a circular wound, about the size of a quarter, appeared just off-center of my spine overnight. They didn’t hurt.
At 30, a “tear” in my skin about 5″ long on my inner thigh. It hurts every day.
I have been to dermatologists to get an idea of what was going on, and all they can tell me is that it’s just normal scar tissue.
During my Junior year in highschool, I did a semester away program where I lived on a farm in rural VT. For our science class, we each had to pick a random spot somewhere on the schools 150 Acre campus, and visit it periodically over the course of the four months to research soil types, tree growth, etc. It was basically on us to go out to our sites whenever we had time. Within the 150 acres are probably 80-100 different logging trails, which is how you get around in the forest. The day runs in a weird way where it’s possible for your schedule to give you a few hours free at a time.
Anyway, a good friend, we’ll call him Tim, had borrowed another friends bike to go to his site for a couple hours – a site which was pretty deep into the woods. He left about an hour before lunch and no one would have noticed he was missing for a few hours, had he not come back. During lunch, I was sitting at a table with one of my teachers who, about halfway through lunch, abruptly stood up (we ate family style so this was weird) and told us he was going for a drive. When we asked him why, he seemed kind of agitated and told us that he just felt like he needed to get out for a bit. He hopped in his pickup truck and left down a random logging road.
He found Tim in a ditch, two miles into the forest on that one same logging trail. He’d been going fast down a hill and the brakes had shot out, propelling him into a tree. He’d broken his spine and couldn’t move. He was medi-vac’d to Dartmouth for emergency surgery and ended up paralyzed from the waist down. He probably would have been alright, but he’d tried to drag himself out of the woods and into a more visible position, badly damaging his spinal cord. He said that he was going to keep trying to drag himself towards the school. If our teacher hadn’t had a fucking bizarre impulse to drive slowly down one in a giant network of logging trails in backwoods vermont in the middle of the day, he most likely would have quickly at least become paralyzed from the neck down. The fact that he had such a terrible feeling and made such a seemingly arbitrary decision has always just struck me as inexplicable.