[ WP ] Every time you die , you are transported to the time of the first event that ultimately caused your death . One day , you are hit by a car and sent 12 years into the past .

The bench I sat on was cold and wet. After a long, dry summer, it was finally raining and it was raining hard. I was soaked within seconds of stepping foot outside, but I did n't care. I'd always liked the rain and even if it was cold and uncomfortable, I felt I deserved it. Regardless, twelve shots of vodka can make even the coldest rain feel kinda warm. 
 
 The only thing missing was some lightning. I felt dreary enough but I wanted some excitement - some fear - to go along with it. I had always enjoyed the extremes of weather. I wanted it either clear and hot outside or storming like a bastard. You can keep your mild days. Some of my first memories were of playing detective as a small child in my yard in the rain. I preferred being alone even then, and dreamt of being even more alone. I wanted to walk the streets of a deserted city in the pouring rain. Thirty years later, I had my dream. I was no detective, though. 
 
 Drunk and alone, there was nothing to do but think. I stared out at the grassy hill in front of me and the empty street beyond it. Part of me wanted to plan for a better future, but another part could n't stop blaming myself for the past. Deeply conflicted, I could n't latch on to any one thought and follow it anywhere productive. This just made me more frustrated with myself. I breathed deep and tried to just let go. 
 
 The vodka caught up with me and I began losing consciousness for a few seconds at a time. The sound of the rain was softer and I no longer felt wet - just sad and drunk. It was time to walk home. With a sigh, I rose to my feet and began crossing the grassy expanse in front of me. The ground was slippery, but I made my way to the sidewalk without incident. 
 
 Walking toward my apartment, cars started to appear in the road and pass me. I heard one speed up behind me and then a spray of water shot up and enveloped me from head to toe. The driver had swerved purposely to soak me. I raised my middle finger to the car as it passed and mumbled, `` Fuuuuckkk you.'' The car's brake lights lit up and it stopped in front of me. For a second, I considered turning around, but the booze got the best of me. I continued walking as the car backed up toward me. When we were side by side, the passenger window rolled down and I could see that the car was filled with at least five laughing teenagers. They shouted over each other, but I had no problem making out the harsh words they used. 
 
 `` What the fuck is wrong with you man?'' 
 
 `` Go home, stumblebum.'' 
 
 `` Flip me off? Yeah fuck you!'' 
 
 I only found my confidence to respond once the car was pulling away. I stumbled into the street and shouted, `` Assholes!'' with my arms outstretched. 
 
 The bright white of the headlights appeared in my periphery and the screeching of tires filled my ears. Too late, I understood a car was coming up behind me. A blinding pain shot through my legs and then there was a sensation of being pulled hard, as if by a strong current. Then nothing. 
 
 -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- - 
 
 ``... that guy. I just ca n't believe she'd do that to me,'' Bill said. I had the odd feeling of having just woken up, but I was actually in the middle of a conversation with my college roommate. 
 
 `` I'm sorry, man,'' I said. 
 
 `` Yeah, me too. What happened with your girl exactly? You do n't have to tell me if you do n't feel like talking about it.'' 
 
 For a brief second, I could n't even remember. And then, the events came rushing back and the pain was there with them. 
 
 `` I went to meet her at the hotel. I knocked, but as soon as we made eye contact, I knew something was wrong. She pitied me, dude. Here I was, thinking we'd get back together, and she did n't see me that way at all,'' I said, staring past Bill. 
 
 `` How long's it been since you were together?'' 
 
 `` Almost a year. She came back to visit her family and we talked before she got here. I was so sure things would be back to normal. Fuck! I'm so stupid.'' 
 
 `` No, dude,'' Bill said. We were silent for a moment and then Bill walked over to the freezer and pulled out a bottle of Svedka, our preferred vodka. He crossed the kitchen, found two shot glasses on a shelf, then sat back down with me at the table. He poured two shots. We drank them without a word and then he filled the glasses again. 
 
 `` You're a good friend,'' I said.
