Tears of the Broken (22 page)

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Authors: A.M Hudson

Tags: #vampire, #depression, #death, #paranormal romance, #fantasy, #book, #teen fiction, #twilight, #tears of the broken, #am hudson

BOOK: Tears of the Broken
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David edged slightly closer, but stopped.


Harry was so happy going for a drive when it was dark. It
made me feel lighter just to see him smile. He only had two teeth
and the cheekiest grin you ever saw.


It
was so cold that night and our car heater was on the fritz, so Mum
had Harry all rugged up, with his little blue beanie on—the one she
knitted when we found out he was a boy. We were the only people
crazy enough to be out on a night like that.


As we pulled up at the stop sign just
around the corner from home, Mum started fussing with the heater.
Then Harry started crying. Again. We were both so
sick
of that sound.” I
shook my head once. “God knows I’d give anything to hear him cry
again. It’s silly really, how unimportant something like that seems
when you can’t see them anymore.” David and I smiled weakly at each
other for a second. “So, I was playing boo with Harry again, and he
started cackling. Mum smiled at me—to say thanks, and I turned back
to smile at Harry as we started to pull away from the stop sign,
only—I felt the car shake, before I heard any sound. The
headlights, they came from the wrong direction, lit up Harry’s face
from the front. I tried to scream. Tried to tell Mum something was
wrong, and then—the shaking—the car shook
so
violently. I held on to the back
of the chair—stuck that way with the force of the movement as we
rolled, endlessly…just rolling for what felt like
forever
.” I hugged my
arms across my chest. “Harry’s car seat shook, and came loose from
the buckle—I reached out to him, tried to grab him, but glass
shattered across my face. I closed my eyes for one second, David,
just one second as the car rolled to a stop—and Harry was
gone.


I
laid there, upside down, my face meshed into glass and broken
scraps of metal—awake, and alone, for the longest time—screaming
out for them. No one heard me. The glass in my face and hands was
stinging so bad, like, if I could just wash it off with water it
would stop hurting, but I couldn’t get up. My hips were still tied
into the seatbelt and I was pinned by my shoulder—by something cold
and hard—almost like a metal arm. It wouldn’t let me go, and all
the blood was rushing into my head, making it hard to
breathe.”

My
hands shook as I looked down and saw the darkness of that night in
my memory, how nothing made sense except the fact that I was upside
down, and Harry was missing. “I listened for a while, holding my
breath—desperate to hear a baby’s cry. But there was nothing. When
I realised what that meant, I started screaming again. I couldn’t
stop. I just couldn’t stop because each breath I took only brought
more of the most deafening silence I’ve ever heard in my life. So,
I just screamed.”

I
took a deep breath and wiped at my face, brushing away the memory
of the blood trickling into my eyes. “After a while, I gave up
screaming. No one was coming for us. No one knew what happened, and
the road we were on only had one house.


I was caged in on two sides by metal. All I
could see was the lifeless pools of streetlight on the pavement
through what
was
my window, and the absence of Harry in the small space where
the backseat had been.”

I
closed my eyes and pictured the eerie dimness of the streetlights,
how in the cold, the glow seemed to settle on the footpath like
fog, and remembered how the endless silence was broken only by the
hollow ticking of indicator lamp, distant and lonely in the dead of
night.


I
know it hurts to remember this, Ara,” David said. “But you need to
keep talking.”

David smiled softly when I looked at him; I nodded, but
didn’t smile back. “I laid there for so long, unable to turn my
head enough see if my mum was under all that metal next to
me—unable to stop picturing her with her eyes glazed over. But the
scent of oil and burned rubber made me start wriggling
again—terrified we’d all burn alive if the car caught
fire.


All
I wanted was to get up and find Harry. I was so afraid he might be
hurt somewhere, that he might need me—but worse, if he was alive
after the crash, the chances of that were decreasing for every
second that passed. I had no control, no power.


I’m told it was only ten minutes after
impact, but it seemed like forever until I saw blue and red lights
flashing. Sounds came flooding back to my ears in waves. I know I
heard a siren at one point, and someone calling my mum’s name, and
then, after a while longer—I saw a face. The man looked at me for a
long time before his eyes widened and he screamed out

This
one’s
alive.”


That’s when I knew.” I touched my chest. “I felt in my heart.
I’d lost them.


I was conscious when they pulled me out. I
felt every movement. I tried not to scream. I tried
so hard
not to scream.”
I closed my eyes in emphasis of the words. “I wanted my mum. I
needed my mum. But she was already gone.


I
dared to look back as they wheeled me away. They tried to pin me
down, so I ripped the oxygen mask from my face and sat up, but I
couldn’t make sense of all the metal. A car or a truck or maybe
more than that. It was nothing but distorted jumbles of red and
grey and white. I closed my eyes and fell back when I saw that my
mum’s side of the car was completely flattened by the other
vehicle, and worse, one of the cops was throwing up on the side of
the road. They wouldn’t tell me where Mum was. I asked, but they
kept deferring my questions.”

I
stared ahead, feeling completely numb. “When I asked the man where
the baby was—he stiffened and looked at his partner.”


They didn’t know?” David asked.

I
shook my head. “They knew. They just didn’t want to tell me.” I
dropped my face into my hands. “It all just happened so fast, but
when I play it back in my mind it’s all so much more painfully
slow.”

David stole my hand and gently wiped the tears from my palm.
“For what it’s worth, Ara, I
do
understand.”

I
nodded and sniffed back the tears and snot. “They told me later
that Harry had died on impact—before his seat had been thrown from
the car. But I
saw
him, David—” I drew strength from his compassionate gaze. “I
watched—his eyes met mine as the seat detached from the buckle, and
he was so scared. He was
so
scared. But I knew,” I looked down, “we both
knew, in that moment, he was going to die. And I couldn’t reach
him. I couldn’t help him.” With a stiff-set jaw, I wiped my face
with my forearm. “I wondered what their definition of
impact
was. They never
even let me see Harry—to say goodbye. And then, when I was in the
hospital I heard a nurse outside my door telling someone else that
the cop, who found Harry’s seat, was admitted into psychiatric
care.” My voice rose with incredulity. “Do you have any idea how
horrible it was to hear that? Do you know what went through my
mind?” My lip quivered, and David closed his eyes for a second when
I looked at him.


To
make things worse, my dad couldn’t get a flight. I was left in that
hospital, by myself, terrified—trying to understand what had
happened. They waited…” I swallowed a rise of despair. “They
actually waited until my dad arrived before they told me the truth
about my mum—before they told me she was dead. But I already knew.
I could feel it in my heart.” I touched my chest again. “I never
needed any confirmation.” David squeezed my hand. “No one knew I
was there—in the hospital,” I continued. “Not even my best friend.
He would’ve come, he would’ve sat with me, he would’ve been there,
but I was in and out of consciousness the whole time. I couldn’t
tell them to call him. I have never felt so alone in my entire
life.”


It’s okay.” Warm breath touched my hair as David knelt before
me and encircled me in a protective embrace. “You’re safe now.” As
I nodded, my cheek brushed against the tear stains I left on his
shirt. David kissed the crown of my head and a wave of exhaustion
swept over me. “Did you get injured—in the accident—aside from the
glass?”

I
nodded again, running my fingertips carefully over my jaw. “Dad
fell apart when he looked at me. His eyes, I saw something in them
that I’ve never, ever seen before. He told me that the rooftop had
been torn away and my face had meshed into the ground when the car
flipped. I don’t remember it—at all—” I shook my head staring into
nothing. “I only remember the pain when I realised what happened,
and how I couldn’t see through the blood pooling around my eyelids.
I begged Dad for a mirror, but he wouldn’t get me one. No one would
tell me how bad my face was.” My voice came back low, muffled
against David’s chest. “I was lucky, was all they said. Apparently
I should’ve been killed when the metal pole smashed right through
the headrest where my face would’ve been. That’s what was pinning
me down. It…it would’ve gone through Harry if his seat had stayed
in place. I would’ve had to see that.”


Then, maybe it’s a blessing he didn’t die that way, Ara,”
David reasoned.


Don’t give me that rubbish, David—they
spoon fed me that crap in the hospital until I nearly
choked
on
it.”


So you don’t believe that maybe there’s a
reason you lived—that
you
were spared.”


But, I wasn’t
spared
. Don’t you see?” I looked up
him, my eyes filling with liquid grief. “It was because I was
reaching for Harry, David—that’s why the pole missed me. It wasn’t
fate.” A loud, jagged sob escaped my lips. “Harry saved my life
with his own, and he deserved better than that. I should never’ve
called Mum. I should be the one that died—it should’ve been
me
they buried in the
ground.”


Ara? Don’t say things like that.” David
pressed his hands against my cheeks and held tight as he looked
deep into my eyes. “You can
not
blame yourself for this—”


You
weren’t there!” I pulled my face away. “Please, don’t try to make
me see your point. I know what happened. I know what I
feel.”


Ara—sweetheart.” David stroked his elegant fingers over my
hairline.

I
shook my head as I stared at him in disbelief. How can he be so
nice? I just told him I murdered my family.

His
eyes scanned every inch of my face carefully. “Did you need plastic
surgery after the accident?”

The
sharp, sugary scent of his cologne sent a dizzying whirl through my
head as I rested my face against his chest again and breathed him
in, reminding me of the days that followed the accident; the way
everyone who leaned over to examine me had a different smell. I
shook my head. “They had to remove all the glass and stuff, but
that was all. Then they only kept me in hospital for three more
days after my dad came. But my face was so bruised I couldn’t
really talk, and every time I cried, the tears would sting all the
cuts in my skin. But other than external nicks and scrapes and a
case of whiplash, I was practically unharmed.”


Did
you get a chance to…to…” he closed his eyes for a second, “I’m
sorry, this is a horrible question—to bury your family—to say
goodbye?”


Not
in the way I’d have liked to.” I looked down at the picnic rug.
“Dad took me to the funeral the day they released me from hospital.
It was raining—pouring, actually, and the wind stung my face. But I
held my head high—for them—to show them I could be
strong.


Then, only ten minutes into the burial, the storm hit so hard
that I could only see a grey blur in front of me where their
coffins should be—side by side. Most of the people left, but I
refused to go. I had to say goodbye. But Dad didn’t give me
long.


The
mud soaked into my stockings as I knelt on the ground between their
coffins—touching my hand over the tiny blue and white box, and the
cherry-wood one beside it. Dad told me they put Harry’s blanky and
his teddy in the box with him. I kinda wish they’d let me choose
his toy. He would’ve wanted Pappy, his monkey. He loved that damn
monkey,” I cried, wiping the tears away with my hands. “He would’ve
felt safe with that monkey.”

As I
craned my neck to look at David, he gazed down at me, then kissed
my forehead, and the feel his breath on my nose and lips calmed me
with the reality of his existence. Mum’s gone and so is Harry, but
David is real. My heart hurts for what I’ve lost, but I feel like I
belong here—with him. Like I’ve always belonged here.

But
I don’t deserve his kindness; he has to know—I have to make him see
me for what I am. Can he not understand that there was life, and
now, because of me—there’s not? How can he hold me like I
matter—like he’s here for me? What about them? Who’s going to be
there to make it all okay for Mum and Harry?

With
a sigh, I opened my mouth to ruin my own life—again.


When did your dad tell you that you had to move back here
with him?” David cut me off.

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