Page 2 of Reckless At Raleigh High
White, spiraling into the black.
Another impact. Jarring.
Breathless, winded, jagged, sharppain… pain…painpainpain…p…p…
Ticking metal.
Hissing steam.
They…they’re off the road. In a ditch. Accident. There’s been an accident. A deer…out of nowhere. It came out of nowhere.
“Ben? Benny, are…you okay?”
Nothing.
The woman tries to turn and sees the shard of metal protruding from her chest. It doesn’t make sense, that piece of metal. It’s a part of the car’s fender. How? It shouldn’t…be inside the car. It shouldn’t be insideher.
“Ben? Ben, answer me, baby? Can you…hear me? Are you okay?” It’s impossible to spin in the seat; the twisted piece of fender won’t allow for that kind of movement. Instead, the woman has to use the rearview, angling it to the left and down, in order to find the boy on the back seat. His head is open, blood pouring down his face. It looks bad enough that when she opens her mouth and tries to cry out, no sound comes. His eyes are open. He silently blinks at her, his small shoulders shaking…
Oh god.
The boy’s shoulder’s dislocated. And she can see white showing in amongst the beautiful thick waves of his hair—the kind of white that shouldneverbe showing.
A small, voiceless whimper comes out of his mouth.
“Oh god. Oh…god, Benny. Hold…on, son. I’ll…I’ll get…help.” Each word is harder to form. Each breath is harder to take. Her insides feel wet. It feels like she’s breathing water. With both hands, the woman takes hold of the sharp metal pinning her to her seat and she slowly begins to pull. There isn’t much time. If she tries… If she really tries… If she hurries…
The pain nearly robs her of her last moments of consciousness. If she was alone, the pain would be enough to force her into submission right here and now. She would gladly throw in the towel, admit defeat and sigh out her last breath, knowing that it’d be a reprieve from the staggering wall of agony that’s slamming into her. She isn’t alone, though. There’s Ben. He’s hurt, and he needs her. If she doesn’t make it back onto the road, then he isn’t going to make it…
The broken piece of fender, slick with blood, makes a hollow clanging sound as it falls into the footwell. Warmth spreads down the woman’s chest, staining the‘Aloha Kakou!’sweater she bought at the airport a dazzling shade of red.
The door won’t open on her first try. It won’t budge on her second attempt. The third time, the woman lays her shoulder into the busted plastic housing of the door, and the metal groans, swinging open, depositing her out onto the ground in the snow.
Get up.
Save him.
Save your son.
Your son…
Your son…
Your son…
With her life pouring out of her into the cold, relentless night, the woman manages to crawl halfway up the slope that leads up to the road. Dizzy, disoriented, fighting for breath, her brain feels so damn muddled all of a sudden.
Why was she climbing up the slope again?
She rolls onto her back, dazed and numb, and laughs silently as she coughs up blood.
Wow. The night is so beautiful. The snowflakes, swirling down from the heavens, so thick and fast…they really look likestars.
1
SILVER
Guilt’s an unpredictable beast. It doesn’t behave the way you assume it will. When Kacey Winters was still undisputed queen of Raleigh High and I was yet to be cast out of the Sirens, she encouraged us to be as hateful as she was. The meaner we were, the more arrogant, the more we established our dominance over the lower echelons of the socio-economic student body, the more we pleased Kacey. The pursuit to win her approval was a full-time job that required a level of dedication and determination most high school students are unfamiliar with. But I was never as cruel or unkind as Zen was.
