Disappear

I should be running....
The car approached even faster.
...but I'm not.
Why wasn't I running again?
Who knew.
Then again, I didn't have the slightest clue why there was a car about to hit me when I was all the way in the middle of the park.
I could hear my friend's screaming at me from about a hundred yards away.
"Alec, c'mon, man! Get out of the way!"
I knew what they were saying, but it was like I couldn't make sense of it.
Funny, when most people have adrenaline rushes in dangerous situations, my adrenaline just froze in my veins.
I hadn't even taken a step before the car hit me.
It was like being thrown onto a metal trampoline that didn't bounce.
My breath left in a noisy silence, and I heard my ribs cracking.
And now I'm hit. I'm going to die here. I'm all out of luck.
That was my last thought before my vision finally left, and sleep stole me.

I don't know how long I was asleep, but when I woke up, my entire body was sore, but if felt surprisingly lighter.
I could tell I was no longer in the clothes I had been wearing when I was hit, so I was most likely in a hospital gown.
Relief flooded over me.
So I was alive.
One little piece of good new there.
But one little bit of bad...it was so dark.
Darker than night, and all around me was cold and hard, as if I had been stuffed in a metal crate.
Perhaps I wasn't even awake yet.
Maybe my eyes were closed (though I ruled that one out when I felt myself blinking).
Maybe I was still conked out on a steel hospital bed and they were stitching me up.
That didn't matter though, what mattered was that I was alive, and with that fact, I was perfectly content no matter where I was.
Until, of course, the bed beneath me shifted forward.
My eyes widened in surprise, then squinted in the flourecent light that was suddenly pouring over me.
My sight may have been cut out for the moment, but I could still hear.
"What a shame. Only seventeen."
"Yeah...it was drunk driver that hit him, wasn't it?"
"Drunk and high on dope."
"Mm, that' very, very, unfortunate. The driver lived through it, though?"
"Yes. I hardly find it fair that this kid had his life stolen from him while the drunkard got off with a few bruises."
I opened my eyes enough to see the two doctors hovering over me.
What were they talking about?
They must not be very good doctors if they couldn't tell the living from the dead.
"Hey," I tried to say, "I'm alive, genius."
But I was rather startled to find that my mouth didn't move.
What was going on...?
I was alive, wasn't I?
No way I could be...
I looked around the room quickly.
I saw rows and rows of silver drawers next to me.
Drawers?
But that would mean...
...that I was in the mourge. In one of those...body drawers.
"No, no!" I tried to scream. "You can't do this, I'm alive! Look at me, I'm alive!"
But they couldn't hear me.
I couldn't even hear me.
They shut the drawer again and I cried tearless, silent, non-existant sobs.
My body is gone now, but my soul remains in this drawer.
Crying, telling them I'm alive, convincing no one.
Not even myself.