Snapshot · (Roswell Fanfiction) · √

51. Hit by Reality

The Parkers' Residence
(1995) Max is 10, Liz is 9

The frightening sound of brakes being hit too hard, of tires burning against concrete, cut through the suburban summer day. Liz's hand slipped at the sound, the red nail polish she had been aiming to put on her toe nail sliding down the side of the arch of her foot like a trail of fresh blood.

The awful sound ended abruptly, followed by an eerie silence when even the birds seemed too stunned to sing, until a boy's desperate cry brought that same silence to an end with his anguish.

A chill raced down her spine as the voice she knew so well broke in all the wrong places as he screamed at the top of his lungs and her breath got stuck in her throat as she listened. Her hand was trembling, still holding the forgotten brush covered in nail polish, having the dark red color touch against her skin.

Troooooper!

As if in trance, Liz replaced the brush into the jar with the thick colored liquid and screwed it tight. Getting to her feet, she walked up to the window and brushed the white curtain to the side.

Her large shiny eyes silently absorbed the scene on the street. A red-haired man, most likely the driver, stood next to his white Volvo, his hands on his head, his stance appearing tense even at this distance. Her gaze flickered to the front of the hood of the car, where a boy was kneeling, half of his body blocked by the large car. She caught movement in the corner of her eye and, willing herself to look away from the kneeling boy, she watched the familiar shape of her brother come running up to the car.

Max!

Michael's voice was loud and clear as Max's wailing had now dropped several octaves into a constant painful sound.

Like a wounded animal.

Liz swallowed, not wanting to give into any of her hypotheses. All of them entailing Max being hurt in some way.

But for some reason none of those theories were particularly high on her list.

Trooper.

The name of Max's black labrador kept on ringing through the air as people left the safety of their houses to see what had happened.

And Liz knew that the dog had been hit. The realization hit her like a ton of bricks and she jumped in shocked surprise as a horrific hollow sob entered the silence of her bedroom. Her hand clamped over her mouth when she realized that the sound had come from her.

Stepping away from the window, tears running down her cheeks, she could still hear Max's sorrow and she wanted to go down there and comfort him. But at the same time, the idea of seeing Max as upset as he sounded frightened her. He had always been this down-to-earth, solid entity in her life. He always managed to keep his cool and even though he usually spent most of his time trying to drive her nuts, she had always felt that she could turn to him in a crisis.

To hear him fall apart on the street outside her house was like a really bad dream.

Then she heard the front door slam downstairs and Michael's agitated voice rushing through a thousand words a minute as he tried to explain to a puzzled Gabriela what had happened. Next she heard Gabriela on the phone, asking for a veterinarian.

Having the sense to pull a sweater over her tank top, Liz grabbed the closest one and pulled it over her head before heading downstairs.

Gabriela gave her a look that probably meant something along the lines of Don't go outside, but as she was herself busy describing what had happened to the vet she couldn't stop Liz as she opened the door and entered the war zone.