serendipity ➸ calum hood

➷ one

I took one final glance at the map on my phone before locking it with an exasperated sigh. It felt like hours since I'd left behind the glaring lights of Sydney airport. The reality? Perhaps more like minutes. Dubiously, I glanced in the smeared mirror and the sight staring back at me almost made me wish I hadn't. My pale eyes were ringed with the dark evidence of a sleepless night. Airports really got the better of me. Maybe it was the caffeine overdose before the flight, or the fact that the guy's overly tumultuous snoring next to me on the plane made it impossible to get any sleep. Whichever it was, I hoped it wasn't too noticeable. Swiftly, I tied my blonde hair up and darted out of the bathroom.

The sky was almost black, tinged with a trail of dark purple hues as the sun departed and the moon rose to take its place. It was still warm outside - not as warm as when my plane landed, but still far warmer than I knew it would be in London. Cautiously, I took a quick glance around the gas station before darting towards my car. It wasn't too late but I couldn't help the disconcerting feeling which rippled through me as I dashed across the desolate station and piled myself into the safety of my car.

I'd always had a nervous disposition and that only became more apparent as I bolted the locks and started the engine. At once, I loosened up and switched on the radio. According to the map I'd last looked at, I should be in Moss Vale within the hour. I found my phone in my pocket, unlocked it and scrolled swiftly through my never-ending list of contacts until I found the name I was looking for.

Jasmine. That was the one. I text her to ask for the address again. She replied within seconds.

15A, Dengate Crescent, Moss Vale, NSW 2577.

For the most part, the drive wasn't too difficult. Having a nervous disposition, I'd always hated the motorway and I was grateful when the junction heading into Moss Vale fell into eyesight. It wouldn't be long now and I'd be there. Old South Road quickly approached and, as I drove, I couldn't help but feel slightly excited - which was an odd emotion, since I rarely had anything in life to look forward to. With the excitement came a sense of overwhelming pride. I'd done it. It only took me three years worth of saving, but I'd done it. I'd packed up my things and booked a one-way flight from London to Sydney. I never planned to go back either. Why would I want to? Not after what happened, anyway.

I squinted as the luminescent glow of a pair of headlights came into eyesight. This was the first car I'd seen off the motorway. I found that almost daunting, but relieving at the same time. It was an odd feeling. I ploughed ahead, squinting as the pair of headlights drew closer. Were they veering off to the left? I blinked rapidly a few times. I was tired. I must be imagining things. 

The headlights drew closer, like two luminous evil eyes.

It all happened very quickly. 

My knuckles clamped around the wheel, pulling it viciously to avoid the car that was now hurtling in my direction. My windscreen was plastered with white light, the sound of hot tires screeching across the road and then an ear-shattering crack. With a jolting motion, I flew forward in my seat, my face smacking into the inflating airbag with a sickening slap.

It was very silent after that. I opened one heavy eye, and then another. It took me a moment to lift my head up and peer through the darkness. I glanced to the side. The passenger window was painted so profusely with gaping cracks that I couldn't make out much of a view behind it. I fought hard to find my breath, and when I did, I edged the car door open with an echoing creak to find my footing.

I looked over the roof of the car. A dark figure was emerging from the car whose hood was now buried in the side of my car. With a quiet cry, I dragged my cold hands through my hairline.

The figure was stood upright now. They lifted their hood from their head and in the warm hue of the street lamps, I could make out the worried face of a boy. A trail of vermilion red blood ran from his nose and towards a pair of plump, scratched lips. His dark eyes were painted with shock and confusion as he glanced at wreck in front of him and then his face crumpled as his eyes met mine.

"Jesus, are you okay?" he croaked.

For a moment, I couldn't find my breath, and then when I did; my voice was but a whisper.

"I'm fine. I think."

"Your head..." he murmured, his raspy voice trailing off into thin air.

Instinctively, I reached my hand up towards my head. It was sickeningly warm and damp on my fingers. When I drew my hand away, my fingers were tainted with red, yet I felt so numb.

"Does it hurt?" he choked through the thick silence.

"I don't feel anything."

He didn't respond. Instead, he pulled a phone from the pocket of his leather jacket. I assumed he was calling the emergency services. He spoke quietly but quickly and when he hung up, he walked over.

"The emergency services are on the way."

The words sunk in slowly, like antiseptic on a fresh wound. I found myself choking out a cry.

"Shit. I'm so sorry. This is all my fault."

I could hear his low voice right beside me, yet he seemed so far away. I focused on the street lamps ahead, their warm yellow hue suddenly expanding and stretching to fill my whole vision.

I felt a strong grip on my elbow.

"Shit, you don't look good. Don't pass out on me," he whined as he lead me towards the bank beside the road, helping me down as I collapsed onto the warm grass. It was still warm outside but my body rippled with a sharp convulsion as another cry escaped from the base of my throat. I could feel his presence beside me as he shuffled his body to remove his jacket and drape it around my shoulders.

"They won't be long," he cooed. Almost like a lullaby. "What's your name?"

"Poppy," I said, finding my meek voice after an awkward, subdued silence.

"Poppy," he repeated calmly.

 My brain was kicking into overdrive. How was he so calm? I couldn't understand. Slowly, I drew my knees up to my chest to wrap my arms around my legs, like that would somehow stop me from falling apart, limb from limb. I clenched my muscles tightly. I had to keep myself whole. I couldn't fall apart.

"Poppy, have you got your phone on you? I should probably put my insurance details in."

I fumbled in my pocket for my phone, squinting slightly at the illuminated screen. I unlocked it with fumbling fingers.

"May I?" he asked soothingly, his tanned palm outstretched.

I nodded dubiously, dropping my phone into his palm.

It was silent again, save for the tapping of his large fingers on the keyboard of my phone.

I took my phone back when he was done, squinting at the little blurred black font in front of me.

Calum Hood.

0491 - 570 - 158.
15A, Dengate Crescent, Moss Vale, NSW 2577.