In A Moment

Chapter 1

"Screws fall out all the time. The world is an imperfect place." - Judd Nelson, The Breakfast Club

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I don't remember much about what happened after the crash. I know I was in a lot of pain. I know that my eyes wouldn't open for a good two days. I know the first thing I heard after actually regaining consciousness.

"Poor girl's gonna wake up as an orphan."

Super fun, right?

So when they finally realized I was actually awake, they were much more tactful. They explained my injuries: sprained wrist, mild concussion, and tiny gashes littering my skin, courtesy of flying glass. So physically, I wasn't too bad, given the circumstances.

On the other hand, emotionally and mentally... I was fucked.

That's putting it lightly when you wake up just to have everything crash down around you.

My parents were dead.

That sentence just kept playing on a loop in my head. It's all I could hear, all I could see, and I was honestly starting to go insane.

The only thing that I could hold onto was that my brother was okay. His right knee was the only thing that took actual impact, but even that we're told will be fine after a few months of physical therapy.

Damon being the child he is, despite him being a year older than myself, asked how many scars he'd have. Seems like a reasonable question until you find out he just wants to know so he can show girls.

Ladies love scars.

I'm surprised he's not more of a wreck like I am, but people cope differently I guess. I was grateful either way, it was a good distraction from reality.

Reality was a social worker coming into my hospital room and giving me her condolences, saying she's sorry for my loss, as if that word could cover how I felt.

"It's okay." That was always my response.

She went on to tell my brother and I that our closest living relative was our aunt Sarah who lived in Florida, and that we had no choice but to go live with her. As if we hadn't lost enough, we couldn't even actually go home again.

We were informed that after being discharged we'd have 48 hours to pack all of our belongings for the move. Our aunt would come up to help with the move and to accompany us on our flight.

Of course Damon wasn't having it. He immediately exclaimed that he was only a few months from being eighteen and could very well support us. This was before he realized he had no income and bills existed in the real world. Not to mention the fact that we would only have the food that's in our fridge, half of it probably already bad by now.

It was a nice attempt, I'll give him that, but despite age we're both still children and neither of us knew what we were doing anymore. So I just nodded at the social worker, accepting our fate.

1 Week Later

Being home was even more difficult from being away. I guess because I expected it to be different. Sadder. Emptier. I couldn't have been more wrong.

I walked in and immediately smelled lemon cleaners. My father had gone mad, cleaning everything twice over before we left. He was scrubbed more before our trip that he wouldn't have to worry about it when we got back. Knowing him he'd do the same thing as soon as he came back.

He's not coming back.

Cue the stabbing feeling in my chest.

I walked into the kitchen, which was my mother's pride and joy despite how little she used it. Dad was the main cook in the house, mom only taking over on special occasions such as Thanksgiving or Christmas.