Page 1 of That One Moment

Prologue

It's funny how fragile time is. How one choice, out of the thousands we make from the time we're born until the day we die, could have such catastrophic consequences. One choice. Not even a big one. The choice to stay or go. To do or not to do. It's funny, though, it's not really. Maybe funny in a tragic sort of way.

I close my eyes against the screaming in my head. Snippets of the last few minutes flashing clearly in my mind like one of those old photo reels; the ones that flashed moments captured in time, in black, white and sepia.

Bright lights, a truck, honking, a scream.Smash. Broken glass. A thud. Pain. So much pain.

A rough surface grates against the naked skin on my arms, my head pressed uncomfortably to it as I fight against the searing pressure in my skull and the sudden overwhelming desire to sleep. My eyes flutter open then closed again and I wiggle my toes and fingers, taking note of the sensations in my body. Exhaustion is the one overriding all of them, fear a close second.

A whimper and a cry has my eyes shooting open. My stomach lurches as my vision swims and I turn just in time to empty the contents of my stomach on the ground next to me.

Coughing then gasping for fresh air, I sit up slowly, my body protesting with every move. The skin on my back stings and pulls, reminding me of that time I fell off my bike as a kid, taking the skin off my knee. Cool air hits my back and I shiver, trying to make out my surroundings but struggling as my vision blurs and clears then blurs again.

It's dark but there's a light flickering in the distance and something large right ahead of me. I can't seem to focus on what it is though, so I reach out a hand to touch it but pull back with a wince when white hot pain shoots through my shoulder.

Cradling my arm to my chest and taking a deep breath, I stare harder at the object until my eyes focus and it becomes clear what's lying just out of my reach.

A car.Our car.The one we were in only moments ago, only now it’s lying on its side and all I can see is the dark shape of its undercarriage. My stomach twists into knots and I retch again as a memory accosts me – the photo reel in my mind spitting out new images. Fleeting moments of before and after.

Laughter. A smile I love more than anything. Bright lights. A truck horn. Screaming.Smash. Glass shattering. Pain.

Quiet.

I hadn’t wanted to go to the party tonight but we followed him, like we so often do. Like we’ve been doing for months. Maybe out of fear for him, or out of some misplaced loyalty because we’re family, the reason doesn’t seem relevant. Not anymore.

I’d argued against it, gotten upset. My words weren’t kind because it was the same story over and over again. Until it wasn’t. Until the story - our story - became this. I rub at my eyes, batting away the tears that are falling.

The smell of fuel and burnt rubber chokes me as I press my lids tightly together, trying to will this to all be a dream, or by some miracle for time to reverse so that I can change the path we took, the choices we made.

Another whimper.

It must be one of them. It has to be. I try to pull myself to my knees, because the car is just there, it's right in front of me, I can get to it if only….. but no. My body refuses. My head spins, the world tips and I think I’m going to be sick again. Pausing for a second, I take a deep breath, in and out, pushing the air through my system as the nausea overwhelms me.

Breathe.

In.

Out.

And again.

I’m so tired.

I have to get up. They need me to get up.

Just. Get. Up.

My head tilts, heavy on my neck as I scan my body. My top is torn, and even though it's dark I can see that the shirt is no longer white. Dark patches mark it - maybe dirt or oil or… blood. My blood. Lifting a hand to my stomach, I carefully pull up my top and find a patchwork of grazes on my skin. My body aches and burns and my head pounds, blood beating in my ears. There's a strange numbness on the side of my neck and I have this urge to lie down and close my eyes.

Sleep calls me, promising me relief - a reprieve from this nightmare. But I know better than to let it pull me under. It's not a reprieve, it's a trap. I fight against the exhaustion, the irony being that the more I fight it, the easier it engulfs me.

Around me, the smoky air is still and silent. It's the type of silence that hums in your ears but I can also work out anothersound hidden beneath. I don't just hear it, I feel it because it matches the anguish stirring in my heart.

Words carry on the breeze and I think I hear his name. But then there's only silence again. An eerie silence this time that screams of finality.

I look around frantically, ignoring the way my head swims and bile rises in my throat. A thousand pinpricks line my skin and I shiver. I feel alone in the darkness, but that can’t be right. I’m not alone. It’s just not possible. They were both in the car with me.

Why can’t I see them? Where are they?

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