The Taste Of Your Touch

1

I heard the birds singing. I opened my eyes. In the large tree under which I was laying, I saw a little bird. It was hopping from branch to branch. Its blue wings fluttered each time it touched a new branch. I followed it with my eyes, until it flew away. I looked at the green leaves I was surrounded by and I noticed something hard as I turned to one side. My book.

The book that I had brought outside with me was lying next to me. I had planned on reading it because I had to for school, but I dosed off instead. My teacher gave me the book so that I could practise my reading, I wasn't the strongest when it came to reading, because I had dyslexia and that made it pretty hard for me. I was in fifth class at the time.

I heard a shout from the house. It was my mother calling me. I sat up and eventually walked to the house.

"Could you come here for a sec?" she asked me, as I got closer to the House. "Sure." I answered.

"I'm going into town, want to come?"

"Oh, yes please I'll die if I have to read any longer!" I told her, with a smile on my face, because I knew that she had seen me sleeping.

We drove into town. The place was not very full of people, probably because it was a very hot day and nobody wanted to shop in the sweltering heat. We stepped into the cool post office.

"I have to pick up a package for your dad, so why don't you sit over there and look at some Magazines?"

She went up to the counter and talked to the lady. I saw my mother handing the woman a piece of paper. As I was tying up my long hair into a bun, I looked at pictures that hung on the wall. The pictures all had a slight similarity. Children where laughing and playing on a big field, while what looked like their mothers were talking. It was an ad for a holiday trip adviser, or something like that.

"Come on!" my mother said as she reached out for my hand

I remember how happy I was that afternoon, not for any particular reason. Maybe it was spending time with my mother who I loved so much. The wind was blowing through my hair as we drove home. The little road was bumpy. It was narrow and lined with wild bushes and trees. We had the radio blasting my favourite song at the time. We where singing along to the song. My mother was looking at me with a grin on her face. That was her mistake; she was looking at me and not at the road, because suddenly out of nowhere a car came speeding around the corner. The car was a big four-wheel drive, a jeep. My mother had a panicked look on her face. Her eyes were wide open with fear and her knuckles where white. She clenched the stirring wheel tightly. The last thing I could remember that day, was my mother screaming for me to duck and her being flung into her seat. The wind screen cracked and glass was everywhere. A small piece was stuck in my eye; I was blinking frantically trying to make it come out. My mother was covered in blood. Her otherwise blond hair was now red and her hands where ripped open by the shards of glass.

It was a horrible, horrible sight.