How Typical

Prologue

My family and I had always been really close. It had always been just my dad, my mum, my older brother, and myself. My father had always been very supportive. He taught me how to ride a bike, and took me to my first day of school alongside my mother, who was always the closest person to me in my life. I remember her taking me ice skating many years ago. I almost fell before she caught me and we both couldn't stop laughing because of how I was almost running on the spot trying to keep my balance. I also remember the time when she took me to my very first soccer game when I was 6. She and my father had made a banner with my name written in bright green letters on black cardboard, which stood out from all the chaos going on in the bleachers. I had felt such a happy feeling and a rush of adrenaline seeing my parents smiling and cheering me on, but that was nothing compared to the feeling I got when we won that day.

My brother and I hadn't ever really been as close as my parents and I. He is only a year older then me, but he was always doing is own thing. He always isolated himself to his video games, excluding himself from his family and a social life. But since the day my life changed forever, we were inseparable.

One bright, sunny morning. My father had come up with the bright idea to take us out on a drive up the tallest mountain in the state, Mount Walshton. It was so tall that the peak disappeared into a thick blanket of clouds. I wasn't so keen on driving up this mountain. Mainly because I was very impatient and i had no intention on sitting in a cluttered and stuffy car for 2 and 1/2 hours. But also I got really bad car sickness. We couldn't drive 1 hour without having to pull over and take 5 while I crouched over a bush in the distance hurling up what I last ate. It was very unpleasant. But my father being the very stubborn and adventurous person is was, he fed us his logic behind how this will be a great experience and we will see one of the best views that you could ever see. We packed up our small black Honda Sedan and started our 2 and 1/2 hour drive to the top of Mount Walshton.

This drive, I will always remember as the most annoying, boring, and sickly experience I've experienced so far. My father had put on his classic 1980-1990 songs which he grew up listening to, which I despise with a passion. My mother was rambling on about the scenery and nature and our world.
She
Wouldn't
Stop
Talking.
Even when I tried to past the time with a quick nap. She snapped me awake with such haste as we past a very tall tree, and saw a group of baby ducks on the side of a river bank, as we crossed over a bridge onto the base of the mountain. I've never been so happy to see a road sign saying '10km to Mount Walshton peak' in my life. And so we drove, and drove, for what had already felt life hours, which it had been. I had finally made my dad switch the CD player over to my favourite little kids tunes. Keeping in mind that I'm only 7 years old at this time. My favourite song came on, "You out your left hand in, and you're left hand out. Your left hand in and shake it all about." I used to always shake my head around letting my hair fly wild when the phrase "shake it all about" was said. It was so pleasing, because I loved this song, but I also knew that the rest of my family hated this song. If I ever found a way to really annoy my family, I would probably be found doing it not so long after I discovered it. Hearing my favourite songs made the time pass by quicker then expected. I was smiling and singing, while looking out the window.
"Wow, this scenery is so beautiful, Dad!" I said when we past a clearing in the trees.
"Told you so, Pet" my dad replied with. He always called me 'Pet'. When he said it, it made me feel very protected and loved, but I always took it for granted. I wish I hadn't now.

But, one happy moment can change to a tragedy in a second. And I had experienced that first hand. My mother always told me I wasn't allowed to walk to school by myself until I was older because it's not that she didn't trust me, it was because she didn't trust other people. I then knew exactly what she meant. As we turned a corner, ascending up the mountain, a car with a massive trailer on the back of it was speeding, in our lane, heading straight for the front of the car. My father cursed and shouted, my mother screamed, and threw a pillow at my head which I immediately used as a shield over my head. My brother's head fell into my lap covering his face with the same pillow. I heard a loud
screeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeach. We drove off the mountains edge. We were airborne for what felt like a split of a second, but soon met the ground with a deafening crash. The window beside my head and the windscreen shattered. I felt branches and leaves fall into the car, scratching at my legs and arms. I hugged my brother and he hugged me with all our might, keeping each other close and shielding each other from debris and broken glass. I felt a something fall in the car. The amount of pressure and speed forced the drivers seat to be pushed back to its limits, squashing my legs and knees into the seat, and I also felt an agonising sting as my calf forcefully pushed a piece of sticking out glass deep into my leg. I screamed as tears fell down my face, waiting for this nightmare to be over.