Flawed

2

Chapter Two

No accident

      THE PAIN SHOCKED SENSE AND FEELING TO EVERY NUMB ACHE AND CORNER OF MY BODY. The breath was sucked out of me. I didn’t move, but the momentum bowled me onto the floor. My legs were like jelly and my arse hurt like hell when it hit the floor. Then my head followed suit. Oh, god. The pain echoed through me until it was replaced with an awful numbness. A car door slammed as the guy who owned the car who hit me came tumbling out. Not that I could see anything, though. My vision was black and endless, a flurry of flashing stars. I wasn’t functioning right. I couldn’t move. Pain was wrenching though me just because it could.

      “Oh, my god! Shit! Oh, dear god… can you hear me? Girl?” the guy’s voice was irritating and slightly high-pitched, so I tuned him out and opened my eyes grudgingly to look at something fascinating under his car. I felt wetness on my face. Was my nose bleeding? Was my head split open? Who cared?

      I heard a low dial tone.

      “Oh, thank goodness. A girl, maybe about fifteen or so… she just ran right in front of my car! I couldn’t do anything about hitting her… Roger Avenue, near the roundabout. Please, come quick!” he panted. What a cliché. They’re the bloody Medical Emergency. They’re not going to take their time. But thinking hurt, so I stopped.

      Soon later, a blaring filled my ears. Was it sirens? Yes… it was sirens- ambulance sirens. I groaned.

      “Stay with me, girl!” said the man, who was now kneeling beside me awkwardly. Ugh. Another horribly cliché thing to say.

      “Medical emergency, who is injured here?” a tall man with orange sideburns demanded as he tumbled out of the ambulance. His eyes found me, and they widened. So, my injuries were that bad, huh? The pain hadn’t stopped- just another sign it was coming strong and heavy. A few more people came out of the ambulance. They all wore emergency gloves and tight, careful expressions. I felt a little faint when two women came out hauling a stretcher. Why? Why couldn’t I just have died?

      The worst part about it was, as the man frantically described the accident, the man with the sideburns turned even graver. They were experts. They would know that it was no accident that I stood in front of the car- and they wouldn’t keep it to themselves.

      Cold hands hauled me onto the stretcher. I would have argued, or got myself up, but my head reeled when it hit gravity, and I just couldn’t move at all. One of the women looked really casual, which she’d have to be. Then I couldn’t process images, and my vision was bombarded with black smudges.

      I moaned as a wave of pain shuddered me, then I coughed. It hurt… a lot. I didn’t even have to see it to know I’d coughed up blood.

      They wheeled me up the ramp at the back of the ambulance. They searched my pockets, and found my phone. They easily found Mum’s number, because it was the only number I had in contacts.

       “Lauren?” the casual woman with a blonde bun said calmly. “Your daughter, Willow, yes, has been involved in a motor vehicle accident near the roundabout at Rogers Avenue.” A few pieces of serious dialogue were exchanged then, most of it I didn’t catch.

      The other woman came forward and wiped my mouth, for blood was dripping from it. Any other day I would have thought that was cool.

       “Now, sweetie, how many fingers am I holding up?” She was holding up four, but it hurt to process that. I coughed again.

       “Ohh- kay, easy there,” she said calmly, moving forward again and turning my head.

      What felt like hours later, though in reality it was barely two minutes, Mum was in the ambulance. I gaped, trying to say something, but exhaustion, pain… it was all too much. My fingers curled and my chest heaved as I coughed again. Mum’s face was one of pain, but clearly not the kind of pain I was experiencing.