Whenever he’s near, I feel a strong breeze around me, as if feeling him passing by. I just know he’s out there grinning, sitting on the dashboard of my car. Although I believe he’s near, I know it’s only my thoughts, and maybe even a coincidence. He never seems to be near when I’m struggling in school, stuck on something, or even have to clean my room. Back to reality, I’m in my car, going past the speed limit of course. I’m running away from everything. I would have liked to say my goodbyes, but I’m not in the right state of mind to do so. Green, white, pink, or yellow, I don’t care since he’s my fellow, the plastic Jesus sitting on the dashboard of my car.

All of a sudden . . . Boom! A huge explosion. I wake up to a soft beeping and look around to see an all-white room, surrounded by the smell of latex gloves and the coughing of middle-aged men. Of course, I had relied on my plastic Jesus, and he let me down. Should I try the Virgin Mary?

I punch out of the hospital, my car gone. Disappointed, I walk to the exit . . . “Wait? Hold on a sec . . . is that?” The doctor hands me my plastic friend, obviously, the only thing that survived the crash. I take it angrily and leave, throwing it across the street. I go home and get into bed. In my sleep, I have a conversation with Jesus, he tells me he tried. He tells me how he’s pushed out all the sickness to assure my well-being, he’s made sure I’ve gotten challenging questions on tests because he wants me to succeed, and he’s made sure I survived the crash.

I wake up feeling new and refreshed, but confused. I go outside, barefoot, looking around me. I see balls being thrown by children and people playing, none of which hit me. I see planes in the sky, none of which fall. I see people all around, none of which die. My conversation with him changed something in me that night. Bad things happen by chance, or maybe when one from above thinks it’s time to go. I’m lost deep in my thoughts when all of a sudden, I hear a voice, “Miss . . . Miss . . . you dropped something . . . is this yours?” 

“Huh?” I didn’t have anything with me. I turn to the guy. Looking down, I see none other than my plastic Jesus.