Suicide Mission (Guarded Secrets #1)

1: "Take me out of the oven because I'm so done!"

The headlights shone weakly through the thick darkness that lie ahead. My fingers danced over the five preset radio station buttons as I attempted to find something that would keep me awake for the trip back to our home in southern Virginia. I was so focused on the road and the radio that my father had to tap me to get my attention. He offered me his cup of coffee, but I quickly declined. I wasn't now, nor had ever been, a fan of coffee. I was turned off by the horrid aftertaste that was left in my mouth even after the smallest of sips.

With the exception of a pop song that I had settled on, and the sound of the rain crashing against the car, everything was quiet as I drove down a narrow road which seemed to stretch on forever. I could feel my eyes getting tired, but I was determined to stay awake and make it through my first night driving experience.

I must have shut my eyes for a few seconds because the next thing I saw was a pair of headlights heading straight for us. That's when I heard car brakes shrieking, disturbing the silence of the night, as they were stomped on in an attempt at preventing the collision. I swerved to avoid the impact, but the other car turned too and hit us on the passenger's side.

Cries penetrated my ears as the car flipped and glass crashed around us. A scream tore from my throat, and suddenly my eyes flashed open, causing the car and everyone in it to vanish instantly.

Despite the fact that I knew I was dreaming, I couldn't stop the cry for help from escaping my mouth and the stream of tears that were trickling down my cheeks. My breathing was erratic as I slumped forward, holding my head in my hands.

"Sara, you're okay! You aren't in the car! It was just a dream!" Alex, my adoptive brother, said until I stopped shrieking. He comforted me until I opened my eyes to look at him through my tear-clouded vision.

I could see the pain and pity he had for me. I woke him up almost every night with my screams, yet he always came in to check on me knowing I was safe in bed.

"I'm fine, Alex. Thanks for checking on me," I whispered, just loud enough for him to hear me as I wiped my eyes with the back of my hand. A quick glance at the clock told me that it was one in the morning, and Alex looked as if he had been the one with the panic attack by the exhaustion etched onto his face. "Go back to bed. I'll be fine." We both knew that was a lie, but I felt guilty for waking him up again.

"Are you sure?" He seemed uncertain if I was being truthful.

"Yeah, thanks again," I said, waiting for him to stand before pretending to cuddle back under the covers and go back to sleep.

He focused his eyes on me, skepticism on his face. After seeming to be convinced, or at least pretending to for my benefit, he sighed and said, "Good night, Sara," before turning to walk away.

I shut my eyes as he left, listening to his footsteps as they went back through my doorway, and then to the sound of the door shutting lightly behind him.

After he was gone, I sighed heavily and sat up in bed, completely giving up any hope of getting back to sleep. I turned on my bedside lamp and pulled out a sketchbook and began to draw. It had been four years since the crash, but I still wasn't sleeping through the night. It was still too fresh in my mind for me to settle down and move past it.

What if I hadn't closed my eyes for that second? What if someone else had driven?

These were the questions that haunted me and didn't let me move on with my life, even after so many years. I could still remember Mr. Ricker coming to help after the crash. He had been on his way home from work and accidentally stumbled across us, but if he hadn't I wouldn't have survived. He moved me from the car when the ambulance came, but they hadn't come soon enough. My brother, the only other person to survive the horrific crash, died on the way to the hospital. I had been so distressed that they had to put me to sleep so I could calm down. Of course, when I woke up the pain was still there, but so was someone else.