Page 76 of Rock Me

And again, they say nothing.

What do you say when you're the only one to survive?

***

I wake up. My T-shirt is dark from sweat. The bed sheet kicked off and the pillow pushed onto the ground. But the memory of my nightmare is still fresh in my mind. I brush my hand over my face and it's wet. From sweat, I tell myself, but I know it's from tears.

It wasn't a nightmare. It's reality.

My parents were in a car accident. I was in a car accident of sorts.

How come I'm the only one to survive?

I lean over and try to reach for the pillow. My arms protest a little with stiffness, but I ignore it, trying to grip it with my hand. My wrists and fingers refuse to move, so I pull them back.

And think of her. Breathe deep, and think of her.

Make a fist, I hear her urge me. You can do it, Jez.

And my fingers move.

I reach over again, and my fingers grab the pillow. I push it under my head and close my eyes.

Willing that the thoughts are done torturing me for the night.

Only to be replaced by others.

Of her.

Belonging to somebody else.