Cross Your Fingers and Your Ts (part 2)

The dark was obscured when a spot of light shone through the deepest crack in Marah's field of vision. It was small, but it blinded her, and she moaned in distress. She felt...disconnected, unaware and invalid, drinking in the shapes of the world reluctantly. As lines and colors formed in the slits of her eyes, she finally connected, her mind and her body becoming whole again.
The last thing she had seen through her wondrous eyes was the smooth black Jaguar, flashing past all its surroundings and coming in impact with...her!
She jolted upward, immediately regretting so when she felt an electrical current surge through her head. She was feeling pain...her entire body aching in tragic harmony. A sign, perhaps, that she was still alive?
But despite all the pain that seemed to be all balled up and turning her body into a blob of moosh, she felt a numb and distant sensation. Her eyes opened; it felt as if she were forcing herself to wake after a long, restless sleep.
When she looked around, she expected to see an IV, see the tubes winding like fettachini around her body...see the white walls stained with death...the shining linoleum floor.....the smell of anesthetic fresh in the air....
Instead, she was behind yellow tape that read: CRIME SCENE INVESTIGATION, her body sprawled on soft dewy grass. She heard men talking in serious tones, and the voices of women in distress.
She stood up. Bodies moved around her as if she was not in existence, and she almost thought she wasn't.
"Hello?"
Her voice cracked slightly. It had been so long since she had spoken, it seemed. Looking down at the grass, she saw no imprint of where her body once lay. For a brief moment, her head swam. What the...hell?
She walked, dragging her feet across the ground, but the grass seemed to go right through her feet. The commotion around her didn't include her at all. Bodies flew past in a blur, but she stood still.
"Hello?"
Her voice pierced through the den unnoticed. People continued to talk.
She listened to what they said, catching phrases and words, passing through her ears.
"Her family..."
"Worried..."
"Can they afford the bill?"
"In a coma...vitals are holding, but can she come out of it?"
"What about..."
"The man who was driving the car, will he be arrested?"
"They haven't caught him yet..."
"Car in a ditch, no trace of him..."
"But what about her, will they pull the plug?"
"She's only fifteen..."
The words hit her like tight fists. She felt herself choking.
Am I even....here?
No one saw her. They kept on talking.
"I'm right here! I'm right here! Can't you see me?"
There was no response.
"Hello?!"
Nothing.
She ran up to a woman, her brows furrowed and her wrinkles made definite by the lighting of the street lamps.
"Hello...?" She waved a hand in front of the woman's face.
She kept on talking.
Marah backed away.
What the hell is going on? Why the hell is no one seeing me? Am I invisible? Am I glass? Am I not even here?
Marah shook her head. She needed to get away from there. She needed to get away from there now. Before she could think twice, she bolted.
She pushed through the crowds and the police officers, but they didn't notice her. She shouldered and pushed against people with great force, but they paid no heed. No one budged from there position. It was as if Marah was in another dimension.
And maybe she was.
So she ran as fast as she could, away from where they had found her body.