In the Middle of the Bed (A Saira Collings Story)

January 10, 2004 (Chelsy's Story)

Almost exactly four months since their deaths. That's when the last shard of blue glass comes into play.

It was, of course, on an icy road during the night. Out in the middle of nowhere. In the heart of winter.

I wasn't supposed to be out there, all alone, yet I was. The foster family I had been sent to hated me, so I ran. A cowards's choice, but I was a coward.

The months had been hard. I hid my wrist, which had scarred into an ugly black line raised up on my wrist. Against my pale skin, it stuck out like a crow in snow.

This particular night, I'm walking along the side of the road, rubbing my wrists against each other. It had become a habit of mine, a habit that my foster parents had tried to break.

No one was on the road, not for miles. I was truly alone, walking along the tree-flanked gray serpent. Only the night birds and coyotes were around, but they stayed well away from me.

Maybe they can smell the death around me, I think to myself ruefully. But most birds can't smell, my logical brain says. Stupid brain.

Suddenly, I hear the screech of metal and rubber. I turn, and see a black shape careen into the trees. The crunch of metal and explosion of glass would've made anyone else scream, run, or piss their pants. Or all three.

But I'm not anyone else.

So, what do I do? Walk towards the car like a fucking idiot, calm as can be.

The hood is smoking by the time I get there, dark plumes of smoke leaking out from under the dented fiberglass.

As I peer through the broken glass of the passenger side door, I see a woman slumped in the driver seat.

Dark blood is pouring from her chest and face. The airbag had deployed, and her breaths rattle as it sucks itself back into the steering wheel.

She turns her face to look at me, and I meet her confused gaze.

"Am I dead?" Her voice rattles, the barest whisper, and I see that a jagged piece of glass has embedded itself in one side of her neck, pulsing blood with every heartbeat and breath.

I shake my head, and say,"No. Not yet. But you will be soon." The woman nods, turning her head back towards the tree and dented hood, barely seen thanks to the black smoke.

I see a tattoo on her arm, and lean forward to get a better look at it. I have yet to get completely used to these new glasses, since my old ones were destroyed in the fire.

The tattoo spells out the words Strength Before Death in a fancy script across her arm. The woman looks down at it, and smiles slightly, blood speckling her lips.

"It was a motto my dad used to say. After he died, I got it put on my arm," she explains, her voice weaker and quieter than before.

"My dad used to say that stupidity should be fatal," I say without thinking.

"Used to. Is your dad dead as well?" the woman asks. I nod, and say,"Along with the rest of my family. They died four months ago. In a fire."

She nods, and says,"Well, I'm glad I met you, at least. And was at least able to talk before I died."

I meet her eyes, and say,"No one is ever glad to meet me. Death follows me wherever I go. Satan is my king, and God is simply a shadow in the fire."

A laugh, warbled and horrible, erupts from her mouth.

"I wouldn't so quickly diss God, child. He guides you no matter what. You didn't die from your scar, because he sent the nurse to see you. He saved you from death. Life is a gift, even if it seems a terrible gift."

I stare at the woman, surprised by her knowledge. Then, I recognize her: the nurse who saw me after I had dug my nail into my skin, and had screamed.

She smiles wider, having apparently seen the astonishment and understanding on my face.

"Be happy in life, Saira. Even if death follows you, it is simply a shadow. And all shadows disappear in sunlight."

With that, the woman draws her last breath. Her bright eyes fade into darkness. Her blue-white spirit rises from her body, and bows to me before dissipating into mist.

I nod to no one, then turn back to the road, and continue to walk. A blue shard of glass appears, with the name Chelsy written across it.

Chelsy's scar runs from my spine to the top of Sami's scar, which is on my ribs. Its pain seems like a trivial thing compared to my family's.

The next scar will be obtained in a brutal way, so you might want to prepare yourself before reading onward.