Stay A While | DR3 | BOOK 2

32 - I'll Do It, Just Once

"I'm going to— like, a grief counselling group."

"I'm sorry— you're doing what?"

--

My ribs felt like they were cracking against the sides of my kart seat as I wove around corners, trying hard to keep my older brother off my tail. I wouldn't dare even peek in my mirror. I knew how close he was. I knew how badly he wanted to take this from me.

We whizzed by Dad and Rory, neutral as they cheered for both of us on the side lines. Their fists thrown up into the air. Rory had to have been standing on a barrier, or something. He was jarringly tall.

Then suddenly I had a lot more to worry about than my ribs cracking against hard plastic and Rory having leg extensions. My head, as it bounded off the ground, thrashing against my helmet, for one. When I finally stopped rolling, I was upside down. Carson's kart was somewhere, hopefully in as compromised of a position as mine.

Part of me always knows, is always conscious, of the fact that this is just a dream. That this has happened, it's played in my mind more times now than ever. Things are out of order. How did I get out of the kart? Those storm clouds weren't there, it was a clear day in real life. Why was Rory in a paramedic's uniform?

Is this lucid dreaming? Lucid nightmares?

No— because if it was, I'd be able to wake myself up before it got really bad. Like, before bad always managed to turn even worse. As hard as I tried to fight it, it always managed to play through.

"Dad, please. Don't let them take you away from me." I begged. I cried. Dad was in the hospital bed. I couldn't stop my voice from shaking, the child within me was inconsolable. Rain had started to fall, pattering down hard, filling my ears with white noise.

"I'm here, Shark. I won't leave you."

"I don't want you to go, Dad."

"I have to, kiddo. Besides—"Dad paused. My vision swirled all around me as I looked to either side. My hands reached out, but the further I seemed to try and grasp, the further Dads hospital bed rolled back into the ambulance. My red nails popped against the blinding neon-white reflective metal, only my nails weren't painted red.

It was blood. A dribble formed, pulling me downwards with it. Right down to the ground, where a monstrous slam and the sound of metal on concrete forced me to shut my eyes. When I opened them, I was laying in the middle of the street on a highway in the South of France. A very familiar stretch of highway.

"You don't need me to stay. And, well, to be frank, I'm needed elsewhere right now."

I looked behind me at the dark figure standing just beyond my eyesight. "I do need you, Dad!" More than he'd ever know. "Carson hates me, Carlee and I aren't talking and I haven't seen Alex in weeks. I'm doubting myself at work, even though I'm trying not to. I just want to be a good fit for the job. I want to be like you..."

An ambulance appeared as it lit the way behind me, casting my shadow to a gargantuan effect in front of me. I turned away from the monster, fearful for what I'd see behind me now.

"Dad?" I whispered, tasting the iron-rich liquid on my tongue.

"Alexa..." A voice, a male voice. Not Dad, but I knew it just as well. High-pitched and panicked. It was Daniel. "Come on, Alexa. Lets go. We can't stay."