My Father My Hero

Getting Help

If the crash did not kill him, the impact into the river from that height would. And if that did not do it either, Mr. Matthews made sure the bullets did.
Hannah stood falling to pieces on the sidewalk. She had hidden in the shadow of a tree to avoid the wicked father; and now, having seen it all unfold before her eyes, she knew it was all over.
She turned to walk away when she heard it. It wasnt much of a sound but she heard it nonetheless. A groan of some sort and it was coming from the point at which the bike had fallen in. She walked over to the origin of the sound and there he was...bloody, battered and bruised...But he was there and more importantly, alive. She didnt belive it but he was there and that was all that mattered. She quickly called 999 and attempted to comfort James.

Two hours later saw James in room 37 of the Blakelands Hospital, Milton Keynes. He had been diagnosed with three broken ribs, a bruised collarbone, a concussion, many cuts, much seared skin, and too many road burns to count. Considering what they saw at the crash site, the doctors considered him terribly lucky not to have kicked the bucket.
Hannah had been questioned by the police who had then considered it too much of a challenge and handed the entire investigation over to the N.C.A.(National Crime Agency) which were quick to send over a man in a black suit with a badge to do some more questioning.
No sooner had James woken up from his medically induced coma, did the N.C.A. agent begin with his inquisitive techniques. He got the name of James' father, the address of the house, a description of both men and the vehicle to track down.
There were quite a few spectators to the crash but all had been sent running by the gunshots. None were brave enough to go to the police but some had been found and interviewed by the media. That was not good. But it did not matter. The N.C.A. would make up a story to throw them off. The two men were never found and it seemed they never would be.
All of this, however, made no difference. James could never go home. He had no one to take care of him. He was put in a foster home and continued his 'normal' life. No one, other than himself and Hannah would ever find out about this. The two stayed a couple. They very rarely even considered speaking about the 'incident' and when they did, the conversation ended in awkward silence. James still pondered upon why the man he had considered his hero from birth would ever do such a thing. Those three words still rang in his nightmares." Iraq, A.I., K.I.A."
It was a freak incident but gladly, it was all over now.
Or so he thought...