Untitled by Hannah Benda

She closes her eyes for the last time. At first, it’s a relief. She’s tired, and she likes the feel of the rain on her face.

But then, she sees her body on the road, the car lights shining in the distance.

Her soul is yanked back, back, back.

She sees her little hands and feet in her mother’s arms.

She sees herself being lifted onto a shaggy pony by her father as she laughs in delight.

She sees the bent pages and well-loved books on the shelf, her seven year old self sitting on the floor with a pile of stories.

She sees the beautiful moments, the Christmas Eve nights by the fireplace. She hears the laughter as they decorate cookies as the snow falls outside. All those wonderful days of doing nothing but reading books and drinking hot tea. The beautiful mountains and trees and lakes on the many hikes with her family. She remembers the fireworks on Independence Day, and thanking God for those happy moments.

Then, she’s fourteen years old, trying to make herself prettier, wishing for a life she didn’t have.

After that, things start to get darker. She wants to cover her eyes as the flashbacks go through all the friends that she lost, the betrayals, the broken promises.

She sees herself regretting her first kiss with the boy she never loved.

She sees her fingers on the piano, playing sad songs on the instrument she loves so much, and she’s taken back to the days where she thought music and her books were her only friend.

She asked God why. She asked Him for someone to talk to. She thought He didn’t care. What she didn’t understand, was that He did answer all those prayers. If only she had seen it. She understands now. He was always there, giving her strength, and she didn’t realize that He was the only thing that got her through.

She goes back to seeing her body on the wet road, and she thanks Him. She wants to go back, she wants to live. But it’s too late.





Hannah Benda lives in Montana. There isn’t always a whole lot to do there, so she spends her time reading large amounts of books and writing random things with a hot cup of tea. She likes to complain about politics and play sad songs on the piano.

Leave a Reply