Ephemeral

Chapter 22

There have been three moments in my life where I genuinely and literally watched everything happen in slow motion. The first time was when I was four years old and I watched my stuffed panda named 'Panda', get ripped to shreds in the lawn mower because it was in Vincent's way. I know, creative. The second time was when I almost got hit by a car at the age of ten. Mom and I were on our way back from the cliff and we could smelly fresh pastries being made in the nearby cafe. She made me wait by the road while she ran in to buy some, however I saw a little kitten in the middle of the road and decided to be a hero. If the driver hadn't stopped in time I'd probably be flattened on the road along with the cat. And lastly, the third time was when I watched my mother get wheeled into an ambulance and get driven away two years ago.

I didn't wait to hear Gabriel drive off before walking further into the house, I couldn't wait any longer. The front door stayed half open as I poked my head into both the kitchen and the living room. No one. The atmosphere in the house felt ghostly. As though there were ghosts lurking in each corner of the room ready to jump at me and take my soul. I expected it to be warm. I expected the smell of cookies to fill my nose. I expected a warm breakfast set out in the dining room.

Nothing. Radio silence. I couldn't even hear anyone breathe.

As I walked up the marble staircase, it was in that very moment that I felt myself moving in slow motion. I felt as though I wasn't moving fast enough and when I tried to move faster, I couldn't. My breathing was slow, but my footsteps and every other movement was slower.

Twenty three agonising seconds later, my hand was on the doorknob to their bedroom. The same bedroom I haven't stepped in, or even looked at, for the last three years. I had no reason to. All it did was give me awful and unnecessary flashbacks that I didn't need.

Twenty five seconds later, I was twisting the doorknob and pushing the door open.

Twenty eight seconds later, I was stepping into the cold room.

Thirty two seconds later, I was walking across the room and had my hand on the doorknob to the joint bathroom.

Thirty five seconds later, I was pushing the door open.

Thirty seven seconds later, I was staring at red.

Forty seconds later, I'm fifteen again. Forty seconds later, I've found my mothers lifeless body. Again. Forty seconds later, and everything is still in slow motion. I'm fifteen again. I want to spend the day with my mom. I want a girls day because she really enjoys those even though I hate painting my nails because it feels weird. I want her to be happy.

I'm fifteen again and I can see litres of blood on the floor. I'm fifteen again and I'm trying to work out whether or not she's too far gone or if I can still save her. I'm fifteen again and I'm straining my ears in hopes of hearing her breathe. I'm fifteen again and my eyes are zeroed in on her chest hoping for the slightest bit of movement. I'm fifteen again and I'm scared that my moms going to die because of me. Again.

Stepping around the pool of blood staining the once pure white bathroom floor, I fell to my knees and gently picked her head up and placed it in my lap. My arms wrapped around her head, holding her as close as I possibly could. The warmth I was begging to feel like I had this morning, was replaced with ice cold. She was cold to the touch but maybe she just needs a little warming up.

"Avery!" A voice yelled as I felt a hand over my mouth.

Deep brown eyes stared back into my own. A million and one different emotions swirling in them that I couldn't quite pinpoint one.

"You're screaming, baby. You need to stop screaming." Luca said softly as I looked at him in confusion. I wasn't screaming.

And just like that, it's like someone snapped their fingers and pressed play. He was right, I was screaming. Louder than I ever had. So loud that I'm surprised the windows are in tact.