The Worst Days of Our Lives

Chapter 1: Chance

"Chance," an unfamiliar voice bounced through his mind. "Chance, can you hear me?" Something lightly brushed his shoulder and he flinched away. Bright beams of light were breaking through the comforting darkness. He was vaguely aware of a throbbing, radiating from the base of his skull. He tried to move his limbs but he felt completely numb, he wasn't even able to manage a finger twitch. He heard the woman's voice again but he was unable to comprehend what she was saying. The dull throb was quickly becoming a sharp, unbearable pain. Spots flashed across the inside of his eyelids as he tried to open his eyes. The lights were far too bright and he quickly squeezed them shut again. The pain was beginning to become too much and he willed himself to fall back into unconsciousness. With the fading fluorescent lights his mind fell silent like the endlessness of space and he drifted into blackness once more.

 Her scream, it echoed and ricocheted in the most terrifying way. It wasn't a scream of normal proportions, but one of terror. The kind of scream that made every hair stand on end, bringing bumps to every inch of skin and chilling your body to the core. That scream. He would never forget that scream. It would wake him every night for months, each time more real than the last. He could swear that she was right there, trying to get help, struggling to resist, fighting to get away. The scream would be a constant reminder that he couldn't save her, she was gone, and it was his fault. He would never be able to escape the guilt that followed him after she was taken.

Waking up in the hospital, days later, his hooded eyes widen to see a clout of concerned figures looming over him.

“Chance?”, his father asked, “Chance can you hear me? Son, do you remember what happened?”

‘Cassandra.’

His consciousness immediately flitted to her. Her name, her eyes, her smile, her. Everything raced through his mind, rushing back to him like a tsunami of feels. She was gone. His ribs felt like someone had taken a sledgehammer and fractured every single one, the splinters of bone stabbing him from the inside out. The pain from before was nothing compared to the pain now. He cried out for help but this effort was met with only a pained gurgle. He didn't know if it was the possible concussion or the sickening memory of recent events, but he doubled over and emptied his stomach. When there was nothing left, his body didn't stop,  continuing to dry heave. He focused on the pain in his stomach muscles contracting, squeezing against each other tightly, trying to push everything out. Before he knew it, his body quit, and he was laying against the hospital bed again.

His eyes stung and he  squeezed them shut, cursing the few tears that leaked out and trailed down his face. “I’m sorry son, but we need to know. Did you recognize the man? Where was she going when he got her? Which direction did he go? What type of vehicle was he driving? How did he get hit? What was she wearing?" His voice faded into an endless blitzkrieg of questions and reminders of his failure, forcing him to remember and report every horrifying detail. He had only been allowed a few moments to gather his thoughts before he had to begin.

 

“She was sitting on her front porch. She was supposed to be leaving for North Carolina, her classes were starting in a few days but we-” Chance had to stop. We. Would there ever be a ‘We’ between Cassandra and I again? "We... we hadn’t said goodbye yet. We both had been dreading this day, the day she would leave for so long. It was supposed to be our last full day together. I was leaving a friend of mine’s house and had just turned the corner and was walking down her street when when a truck stopped in front of her house.” Opening his eyes, he saw that everyone’s focus was on him. Never liking to be the center of attention, he attempted to change it. “So how have you guys been holding up?”

“Do you remember what type of truck it was?” His dad prompted him gently. Chance thought carefully. “A red Chevy Silverado, two door.” One of the men looked down and wrote into the notebook he was holding. Chance swallowed and continued.

“ I saw her head snap up at the sound of the truck's screeching tires. I froze when the driver got out, leaving the door to hang open. I was so confused, but she stood up. I saw her mouth move but I couldn’t hear her. I saw the man smile as he got closer to her. She started to back away but her house was behind her and she had nowhere else to go. She was completely pressed up against the door and it must’ve been locked” Swallowing, he remembered the look of panic on her face. “She looked back and forth for someone to help. I... I yelled. I shouted her name and her head turned in my direction. She saw me and then looked back at the man. I don’t know why I hadn’t moved until then but when the man stepped up to her porch, I ran… I ran as fast as I could…” He squeezed his eyes shut again. An overwhelming sense of failure surrounded him.  “Then… She screamed. That scream. It was so loud I don't know why her neighbors didn't come out. I pushed  and pushed and was getting closer but I wasn't fast enough. The man grabbed her. She had a hold of the door knob and it did her no good. She resisted the best she could. He released her arm and grabbed her around the waist and broke her grip on the handle.” Chance opened his eyes again seeing that the two of the people he didn’t know in the room were holding recording devices. “The man reached for a fistful of her hair. Her legs were kicking as he dragged her across the ground. She kept screaming until he let go of her hair and he wrapped one hand around her waist and the other over her mouth. He dragged her towards his truck. I was close enough that I could see her nails digging into his skin and her teeth sinking into his hand. But… it wasn't enough. He opened the passenger side door and tossed her inside. She crawled towards the open driver’s door, but he grabbed her leg and dragged her back towards him. She screamed again and he grabbed her by the shoulder, and punched her in the jaw. It was right about then, that’s she went limp...” Chance’s voice quivered and he looked down at his hands. They all waited patiently for him to continue. “He slammed the door as I reached him. I lowered my head and drove my shoulder into his stomach, I knocked the air out of him, but it wasn’t enough. I brought a fist up and swung it into the man's jaw, hard enough to stun him but not enough to stop him. I brought my knee towards his stomach but not before he reached into the bed of his truck, grabbing a two by four and bringing it down. That's when everything went black.”

The questions began again, but after reliving the trauma, his mind shut down, drowning out their buzzing tones and drifting back into the sweet solace of unconsciousness.