When My Life Changed

Chapter Thirteen

Today goes by much easier. I finally have Francis as my friend again. There’s still a gap between us, but that will fade with time.

She finally tells me why she was acting so bitchy. She has a huge crush on Benji. So when I went out with him – even though I technically wasn’t going out with him – she freaked and got jealous. I can’t blame her, I suppose. I don’t want to hold any grudges against her. I mean, she is my friend.

And so I get happier. Day by day. Week by week. I don’t see Jake at all. I’m glad that he’s finally gotten the message, but I wish he hadn’t. Now that I have my friends back (Madallin has also started talking to me) I want to have people around me. And, I won’t admit it to myself, but I think the knowledge that he like me has flicked a switch.

I’ve never had that before. I’ve never been told by someone that they have legitimate feelings like that for me. And it feels good to know that someone does.

Or at least it would if I hadn’t pushed him away.

…

It’s Saturday night in the second week of May. I’ve already been at school for one and a half terms. It’s been nearly three months since I last saw Jake. Life is good, except for the constant feeling that I’ve lost my one good chance at finding someone. Of course, that’s absurd. He’s probably found someone for him already. I’m a very forgettable person.

The road is wet from the rain we’ve been getting recently. I’m so bored that I decide to look out of the car window. Suddenly I see bright headlights coming up from the other direction. I look up to see a truck coming towards us. For a brief second I can tell what is going to happen. I turn to look at my family to say I love them, but I don’t have enough time even for that.

There’s a crunch of metal against metal and a scream from Carol. The car swerves across the road and flips over once, twice. I bang my head several times on the window and the back seat.

When the car finally stops moving I’m on a lean. I feel battered and bruised and disorientated. Blood is dripping from my head.

“Mum. MUM!” I scream. I fumble with my seat-belt – my fingers won’t move – for a long moment until the button finally clicks. I reach over to shake my mum, but remember just in time a piece of information that I was once told. It’s not safe to move a body if you’re not sure as to whether or not they have a broken bone.

Instead I reach over for her phone in her bag. I unlock it and type in the three numbers I’ve never used in sequence before. 000. The phone only rings for a heartbeat before it’s picked up.

“Fire-brigade, police or ambulance?” the person on the other end says.

“Police. No, Ambulance!” I stammer. I’m almost instantly put through to another person who asks me what the emergency is. Before they can ask me properly I start screaming and babbling at them. Over and over again I tell them that my mum and sister aren’t responding…we were on the road and a truck…we crashed…I can’t hear them breathing….

Within twenty minutes there’s an ambulance here. I’m yelling at them, screaming at them to start, but they won’t until the police arrive. Finally, after an agonising five minutes, the police get here. They secure the area with yellow police tape and help the paramedics to unload my mum and sister. I’m given a damp cloth to stop the bleeding on my head. I’m already feeling a bit faint from the loss of blood, but I refuse to take a break when mum and Carol are still in so much danger.

No one will tell me how bad either of my family members are. I can’t understand any of the digits on their fancy gadgets either. I’m still so shocked from the trauma that I’m not even crying. I can’t even think straight.