Drift [ON HOLD]

Part 2

  ~*~  

     A high-pitched wailing slices through my serene black world like a knife. I struggle to sit up and find that my entire body aches and throbs. I pull my sleeve back and inspect my arm, expecting to see bruises already blooming across my white skin. But there’s nothing there. I shrug. Whatever. They’ll be there tomorrow, no doubt.

     I yank my sleeve back down and stand up, brushing dirt off of my pants. The asphalt on the road is covered in tiny pebbles, little sharp pieces of gravel, and they stick to the palm of my hand as I go to brush them off my jeans. I scrape them off my hand and back onto the pavement, where they belong.

     There’s a lot of yelling going on and I don’t fully understand what’s happening. There’s a crowd of people circling around a spot a few yards away, in the middle of the road. A lot of people are watching the scene from the main entrance to the boardwalk. They look concerned, but also annoyed, like the whole event is tearing them away from their night of fun and they’d like to get on with their evening.

     I’m not an idiot. I remember what happened; I just don’t understand why people are circling about over there when I’m over here and perfectly unharmed.

     Then it hits me. My mind was pretty fuzzy and unclear at the time it all went down. What if some kind, noble person saw it about to happen and pushed me out of the way? That would explain why everyone’s worried about a person who maybe got the full impact of the vehicle, rather than the girl he shoved out of harm’s way. It would also explain why the impact didn’t feel as strong as I expected, and why I’m over here, instead of over near the car and the crosswalk.

     I walk over to the thick mass of people gathered near my injured savior. I stop a few feet short of the crowd. I’ll never be able to push through that many people. It’s impossible. I stand forlornly, hugging myself, a couple of yards away.

     A woman cries, “Somebody call 911!” and a man puts his hand on her shoulder and says, “They’re already on their way.”

     Sure enough, the sound of wailing sirens gets louder and louder. The ambulance, police, and maybe even a fire truck will be here to help.

     Hold on, I say silently to the wounded hero. Help is coming. Hold on.

     “There’s no point, you know.” The voice makes me jump.

     A girl stands a few feet behind me, arms folded. She’s looking at me with a stern expression. This girl is wearing a navy blue sailor dress that reaches down to her knees. Her hair is shoulder-length, light brown, and she’s got a small blue headband tucked into the front of it. She’s maybe thirteen or fourteen. She walks up closer.

      “You don’t get it, do you?” She says, shaking her head. “You know it, but you don’t get it.”

      “Get what?”

     She shakes her head again. “You’re one of those ignorant types, aren’t you?” She smirks.

     “What’s your problem?” I say.

     “I’m not the one with the problem here. That’d be you, sweetheart.” The girl holds out her hand. “Hi. I’m Willa. Wilhelmina Rogers, really, but I like ‘Willa’ better. Glad you could join us, Elizabeth.”

     “You know my name?”

     “If I had a nickel for every time I heard that one.” Willa says, rolling her eyes. “Yes, I know your name. We all do.”

     “All?”

     “Later.” Willa says. “It can wait. This however,” she gestures toward the crowd, “can’t.”

     “What do you mean?”

     “Let me show you.” She takes my hand and squeezes it tight. “Be strong, Li-.”

     Before she can finish a familiar voice cuts through the sea of worried gibberish around me. The owner of the voice is shouting.

     “Kendra, leave me alone! I have to find her! I have to tell her I’m sorry. I should never have said that. It was so stupid of me!”

     My brother comes hurrying down the sidewalk with Meg, Kendra, and Derek running after him.

     “Come on, man! She’s probably halfway home by now!” Derek pants.

     “No way. She’s out here somewhere. I know her, remember? She’s my sister.” He pauses a moment to call my name and check to see if I’m anywhere near him. “Elizabeth!”

     “Here!” I call to him. “Alex, I’m over here!” I laugh. It comes out sounding strained, but peppered with relief. “I-I almost got hit by a car! I was nearly killed, Alex! But some guy stepped in front of the car and pushed me out of the way! I’m alright, except I’m a little sore, but I don’t think he’s okay at all.”

     My brother doesn’t seem to hear my cries. “Alex!” I shout, “ALEX!”

     He sees me and his face looks sad and worried. He runs toward me and shouts, “Elizabeth! Liz?”

    “I’m here!” I cry, breaking away from Willa’s hold on my hand. “I’m okay!”

     “Liz?” He slows down to a jog.

     “Alex!” I say, grinning. “Alex! It was so scary! I was nearly killed! We have to help the guy that got hit! Come on, Alex! Alex?” He walks past me, through the gap between myself and Willa. “Alex?”

     Willa shakes her head sadly and looks at me with big, lonely blue eyes.

     “Alex?”

     Alex reaches the group and shoves his way through with hardly any effort. “Elizabeth?”

     “Alex!” I scream, frustrated. “I’m here! Right here!”

     He reaches the middle of the crowd and I hurry through the gap he’s made in the crowd before it closes again. “Alex?”

      “Liz.”

      “Alex! Look at me! Why won’t you look at me?” I’m crying all over again.

     “Liz!” Alex drops to his knees beside the blood-covered figure on the ground. “Elizabeth.” He touches the bruised, bloody face of the person. “Liz. No. No!” He’s crying. “I’m sorry Elizabeth! Oh god, I’m so sorry! I’m so sorry, Liz!”

      “Oh no.” My head spins and I can’t focus on anything. “No, no, no, no, no.” I look at the corpse in Alex’s arms. The broken body of a girl wearing his flannel shirt, now stained with blood.