It All Started With Him✅

Chapter 30

It had been a week since the accident and since there was an improvement and he was better to go home, the doctors had given the green signal to get Type discharged. Though Type insisted that he could walk, his parents nor Tharn wouldn't hear of it. Tharn pushed the wheelchair for Type while his parents helped them to carry the bags. Since his arm was broken, he had to use the sling for a month or so until it healed.

Tharn had asked them to wait by the reception while he went to leave the bags and bring the car. While waiting, two ambulances had arrived and a young man was being pushed on a gurney. The other ambulance door opened and a young boy around the age of ten was brought in on another gurney. Type's mother left out a soft gasp and turned to seek comfort from her husband.

Type's eyes didn't blink. He kept watching the scene in front of him. He couldn't help but think that it all seemed familiar. But instead of sitting and watching the scene play out in front of him, he felt that he was once involved in it. He began to see a few glimpses of an accident but he wasn't sure where or when it had happened. His mother was searching her bag for tissue to wipe her eyes. When she pulled out the tissue paper, a photo had fallen out of her purse which went unnoticed by her but not Type. He picked up the photo and saw it was their family photo, which was taken when his brother was still alive. And that's when it hit him.

Tul picked up Type from school after football practice like he usually did. They hummed along to the radio as they drove along. The sun is just beginning to set, the sky now twilight with a few stars.

The light turned green after a few more seconds, Tul carefully pulling the car to the middle of the small junction, watching for the right moment to make the turn to the right. The streets were busy, like any other evening, with traffic as people returned home from work. The pavements themselves were pretty crowded too. Type was busy bouncing the ball on his lap, listening to the music.

Maybe that was why both the brothers missed noticing the lorry that was speeding recklessly around another corner towards them at a speed much more than legal on the motorway, let alone in a school area.

Until it crashed into them.

Everything suddenly went almost weightless and it was like the two of them would be torn violently out of their seats if it wasn't for the belts cutting into their skin. It was sickening, feeling like they were spinning away from the ground with no control. Cars aren't made for flying. Everything around them seemed to slow, drawing out their air time, as if the universe itself was laughing deranged at what was to come.

The impact was expected, inevitable. It didn't make it any less jarring.

They hit the ground upside down.

It was expected to all stop quickly. It didn't.

Metal scraping horribly against the tarmac. The car was still moving, dragged along the ground with banshee-like screeching. Glass smashing. They came to a slow halt. Screaming.

A voice calling someone to call 1646.

The indicator going off, like mechanical mocking, not showing any signs of stopping in pity.

Smoke gathering.

Petrol dripping.

Tul coughed weakly, faintly heard ringing getting louder in his ears, rather than fading like a grenade had gone off, as he hung limply and he tried to get up, get both of them out of the car. He could feel hot blood running down his side and from his nose. Then a pained groan next to him let him know that Type was still alive too.