A Gift From Harold : A Story Untold

Chapter 4

I landed on the hard soily ground with a loud thud. My conscious blurred out and all I knew was that I have been lying there for quite some time. Because, when I got back my conscious, I saw the sun partially submerged into the horizon.

The road must have been deserted because I have been lying there for more than five hours and yet no one passes by and help. Or even bothered to help. I tried moving but as I move my muscles by an inch, they retaliated with excruciating pain. From the feel of it, I might have broken a few bones or maybe tore some of my muscles. But I have to get up. I have to know what happened to Bernadette. If she was fine, she should have called for help. But she didnt. Which means something is terribly wrong. There are two possibilities. She either suffered severe injuries or she might have been taken away by those two hideous men in those masks.

Either way is bad.

I forced myself to get up. Every ounce of energy that I put in to get up is equivalent to a surge of pain that I must weather. The pain was beyond description. But I endured. After several minutes of trying to get up, which felt like eternity, I finally got to my feet. That is when I saw that I was standing on a puddle of blood. Probably mine. I dont know how I even survived after loosing that much blood.

I looked ahead to see any sign of a wrecked car. But my eyes seemed to fail me. My vision was still kind of blurry. I blinked my eyes and felt more pain. I felt my face with my bloody hands only to find out that I was impaled by small shards of glass. I do not know whether some of them might have torn through my eyes but I hope not.The impact of the crash must have been really bad.

I took a rough guess and staggered my way forward, hoping to find any remains of my mother's audi. I looked around and saw something which resembled that blue audi. The car was placed infront of a tree with its front flattened out .  My vision started to improve and I got a better view of the car. I had a bad feeling but I still neared the car with the hope that I will find my mother in it. Hopefully alive.

But as I moved my feet towards the wreckage, I could feel a beat that filled my head up and got louder and louder. I then realised it was just my heart pounding out of immense anxiety.   My lungs felt like they were expanding as I took a step closer.  The remains of the car was awful.  The once so posh Audi is now just pieces of burnt metal, leather and plastic. But something was a miss in the car.

It was absolutely empty. Only one thing remained untouch by the flames that had devoured my mother's car. It was her locket. It was still hanging on the mirror that was installed on the windshield. But Bernadette is nowhere to be found. And that is when my heartbeat started to get even faster. As if it has never ever pounded before.  And my head was flooded with a deluge of questions. How did Bernadette get lost? Did those two men actually came to take her to the queen? If so, why did they not take me along? I was most certainly obvious in that soil.  They could not have just missed me. Something is wrong.

I stretched my arm out and grabbed the locket. The metal was still cold despite the fact that it was engulfed by flames. I opened it slowly, sliding the top to the left. And in it, I saw two words written in ink. Go North. But why north? Why not East, South or West? Was it left by those two men? Or did Bernadette left it there? Even if it was written by either of them, what did they meant?  It must mean something. I held the locket close to me and felt a fire burning in my heart. A fire of determination.  I have to find Bernadette.

What if she was thrown out of the car too? Maybe she was flung out at the same time as I did.  I scrolled my eyes everywhere. I looked around for a body. Dead or alive. My head tossed around to every direction it could. But to no avail, my mother is still missing.

'Mom!' I yelled.

Or so I thought. Because the sound that came out was hollow, hoarse and distant. I realized my vocal cords were sore. It felt like some of the shattered glass might have actually gone down my throat and slit it into two. I tried shouting again but it was of no use. Instead, a mettalic taste filled my tounge.