She lumbered along the downtown streets, brain numb, too exhausted to sleep. Red rimmed eyes attempted to focus on the sidewalk despite the torrents of tears staining her face. Her foggy vision showed her nothing but mysterious blobs moving back and forth. Oh right, those were her feet. She began counting the steps she took, hoping that by doing that, she could somehow numb the pain. She watched patiently as her right foot swung forward and hit the pavement.
1
She tried her best, but everything floated through her mind again, once more cutting scars into her that even time couldn't heal. Their happy smiles as they drove through the midday traffic. Cheerful voices echoed through the car. They were going to the countryside. She could almost smell the fresh air, a beautiful scent compared to the rank city air. She closed her eyes and thought blissfully of the luxurious green of the mountain. They were heading to Mount Ebott, a towering mountain only an hours drive from her apartment in the city.
'Today,' she thought to herself,' is going to be the best day ever.' And it was, for today was her birthday, her eighteenth to be exact.
2
She couldn't stop those memories now. They all flashed before her brutally, making her remember every traumatic moment of that day.
3
The sound of rusty brakes filled the air. She looked up from the book she was reading, Moby Dick, a recommendation from her father that had quickly become a personal favorite.
Brown eyes widened and a thin hand clutched at the heart locket that hung from her neck.
Her mother had given it to her when she was nine. It's a family heirloom, she had said, it's been passed down through the women of our family for ages. Take good care of it. She certainly had. Every night before bed, she washed and polished it till it shone.
4
She screamed.
The truck hit their car head on. Both bumpers crumpled upon impact. An airbag exploded in her face, knocking her backwards. Blood dripped down her forehead in a red, sticky stream. Her nose filled with the stench of iron.
"Mom? Dad?" she whimpered. A haze of pain compressed her head, she gripped it tightly. All she wanted was for the pain to go away. Her hand groped for something physical to clutch. It came to rest upon something vaguely warm. Flesh. Her hand was clutching her mothers shoulder. She wasn't breathing. Her hand moved left, to the drivers seat. Her nails scrabbled against her fathers neck. He didn't have a pulse.
"No," she choked, "No. No! No, no, no, no! This can't- this can't be happening!" she wheezed.
"No..." she sobbed.
