Sativa.

6. Crash

Ten Years Later.

The first December snow-fall festers with cold and misfortune. Fat flurries somersault in a fierce gale of wind. Although the wipers swipe, cranked to the highest setting, visibility is poor. The trailer park is only a mile away but the severity of the storm looks bleak.

Tears saturate Blaine's cheeks and her eyes mist over despite frequent blinking. She wouldn't be out in this weather if she hadn't received an urgent call from the hospital. After a long battle, lung cancer claimed her Mother like a thief in the night robbing Blaine of the only family she has left. Orphaned at the ripe age of twenty three.

She doesn't see the headlights in time as another car drifts in her lane. A dim halo of gold pierces the fog seconds before impact. Blind panic spurs Blaine's reaction avoiding a head-on collision by swerving and, consequently, her little truck bucks off the road into a tree.

Slam!

The seatbelt locks painfully against her chest but spares her from being ejected out the front window. Glass shatters and metal grates as the bumper curves around the tree trunk. Gasping, she grounds herself to the steering wheel until her knuckles practically pop from her hands.

Time is irrelevant. Sticky saltwater tears drip off her chin and down her neck. Blaine sits awhile, numb and breathless, sobbing tears that chap her face. How is she alive? Why does she get to be so lucky when her Mother wasn't?

Composing herself, she twists the key in the ignition frantic when the engine sputters but won't turn over. She pumps the gas with each turn of the key but every effort backfires. Panic dead weights in her chest. She can't breathe past the snot clogging her nose. Her sides ache from crying.

Blaine pauses to calm herself with meditative breathing even though her clogged sinuses slurp like a gunky faucet. She stops weeping but her hands still shake badly enough she drops her phone. The clatter hitting the floorboard is nuclear against the backdrop of deathly winter.

Sniffling messily, she yanks on her seatbelt until it pries lose from around her chest. Free she taps her hands against the floorboard to find her phone in the dark. She dials on impulse, bent over to shield herself from snow blowing through the broken window.

"Hey stabby! What's up?" His tone is upbeat. Usually she'd be lifted but, given the mood, it only grates her nerves raw.

"Travis." Blaine's voice is barely a whisper though she promised she'd be strong if she managed this call. "I didn't know who else I could get ahold of. Can you help me?"

"Sure." His tone softens to match hers. "What's up? Where are you?"

Blaine sniffs again. "Crashed against a tree. Not far from the trailer park."

"Are you ok?"

"I'm fine. My truck isn't. I can't get it to start."

"I'll be right there." She can hear rustling in the background. A small comfort to stir the lead in her heart. "Are you sure you're ok?"

She's never been more unsure but answers with an affirming, "I'm alright. See you when you get here."

Hearing Travis, even over the static of the phone, has a sobering effect. The tears dry up in her stinging eyes. She holds her phone limply on her lap feeling disconnected from her own body.

Blaine can't be certain how long she waits. Gradually the heat ebbs from the cab. Cold settles into her bones even after she tucks her chin into her hoodie. There's nothing to drown out the sadness making her brittle.

Eventually, she spies a figure in the distance. His black jacket stands out like a neon sign amongst endless white. Travis plows through snow-drifts impressively fast. Soon he's sitting next to her shaking snowflakes off his jacket.