Short stories

You have to drive on

You have to drive on

The lights still blind me to this very day. I still see it happen in my head as if in slow motion. When we were just seven years old we used to dream of going to the old farm that only big kids could go. I can still hear our voices crying

 “Mum, mum can we go play down at the old farm?” Or

“Greg, Greg can we come with you?”

It was like our short-term destiny. “Avalon can you just imagine us, playing down at that farm, running around, not a care in the world?”

 Avalon was my best friend. My dad and her dad were best friends since year one. She was the one there when I had my first sleepover, the one to be in the school play, the one who made me happy when I was sad. She was everything to me. To me she was the reason to live, the one who was life or death. She was it.

‘Yeah Jazz I can’t wait till were old enough to go.’

 We were too young to realize why they wouldn’t let us go. It wasn’t that farm that was dangerous; it was the road you had to cross to get to it. Every year there were at least 20 crashes on that particular road, at least 20 families, not seeing their child ever again.

When we were ten we decided to play across the road from that farm. So we wouldn’t go on the road we’d play in the block next to it.

Finally the time came for us to be able to go to this farm. We were 12 years old and on Avalon’s birthday our parents finally said yes, that we could go to the farm. They warned us at least 50 times to be careful crossing the road. And sent my brother, Greg, ahead to meet us on the other side. We were playing with a ball as we approached the farm. Greg was on the other side back turned and talking to his friend.

It happened is if in slow motion, like the replays I get in my mind. Avalon lost control of the ball, not looking where she was going ran onto the road and a car smashed its self into her.

“Avalon!!!”

 I screamed racing over to her as my brother did at the same time.

“Avalon!”

I screamed again, kneeling beside her trying to wake her up. Greg checked for hot air escaping her lips. Nothing. Checked her pulse. Not a drum. And just like that she was a victim.

People tried to comfort my lose for years. I wouldn’t let them. I tried running away. They caught me. I tried to kill myself. They stopped me. I felt alone for years no one could help me I would refuse. I just sat there starring at her 12th birthday picture.

Finally I managed to go to her death site. I asked her questions, she answered.  I talked to her she listened. I was so grateful and happy I stayed there all-night. In the morning Greg found me and asked if I was willing to let her go, I said, yes because I have to drive on.

Avalon will always remain inside me like anyone would if you lost them. Because getting through life is easier if you have friend, even if they’re not there in the flesh.