Feather After

Chapter 4

Feather After // Chapter 4 // The Accident

Aria' POV

I am sitting in the car. It has been fifteen minutes and I had already read the paper that I held in my hands more than times I could count. I don't know who did it, girl or boy or a teacher but the poem was complete. It felt nice almost the stranger whom I didn't know anything about feeling so close.

When you don't know what is happening,

When you want to cry and tears don't come.

When you want to scream but there is no voice,

When life is horrible and you can't sleep.

When music is just meaningless as it could be,

That's what I had written and it was all true. True feelings and while writing the last line I was so sad that I couldn't control it. And at that moment I couldn't write anything else. It was like I couldn't talk about it, I couldn't write about it. I just felt it. What the writer had written had completed the poem.

Breathe in,

Breathe out.

Look behind, the path you have walked.

Look in front.

And then walk again.

Again, again and again

Until you have become

Everything that you have dreamed of.

That's what the writer had written. I talked about the problem and the writer talked about the solution. It was nice. For a change, it felt like someone cared. They were feelings, real feeling.

"How long would it take?" I asked the driver and looked out of the window. The street was busy and had so many different shops.

"It will take time but don't worry, I know a short cut," He said proudly and suddenly turned the car in the right side. Due to the sudden motion and inertia, I was thrown towards the right side as well. The bright gloomy day suddenly turned dark.

We were in an ally and the driver was driving like a mad man. I was actually scared for the first time. I didn't know the way and I was pretty sure that he didn't have the idea of the road; he was just pretending that he did.

"Where are we going?" I asked him while I held down to the seat in front of me with my dear life.

"I know the way," he said and looked at me through the rear view mirror of the car and smiled. Trying to reassure me, but his smiled frightened me more. I felt like I couldn't trust him. The driver was new I hadn't seen him before, he was old as well. He was not the old driver who knew every street of Seattle. I sat back in the seat and took a deep breath.

Suddenly the car made a screeching noise and it came to a halt. Instead of being thrown at any other direction, I was thrown towards the front. I hit my head with the radio station of the car and I felt blood oozing out, which formed a new cut. I could see that my spectacles had broken and a piece of glass had cut my nose as well. I wanted to faint but I didn't. The driver was in a worse condition than me, he was unconscious and I certainly didn't know how to drive a car.

I looked in front of me and saw a bunch of people standing there. The one standing in front of all had a gun in his hand and had it gun pointed towards me. I scrambled back and closed my eyes wishing everything was a dream.

Somebody opened the car door, I was nearest to and I shrieked in fear. I had blood oozing out of my forehead and nose and I could feel there was a deep ct up there, which I couldn't see. I could taste my blood; it was salty like sea water. But I was not sure about its Ph.

I looked up and saw a guy with ginger hair bent down his knee and in a sudden motion broke the door with his leg. He poked his head inside and when he saw me, he froze. I was going to die and I wasn't ready. I thought he would shout at me or slap me but instead, he held his hand out for me. I couldn't see the way he looked but when I looked at him, he just nodded, as if silently reassuring me that he wouldn't do anything bad to me.

I took his hand. His hands were soft. He tugged his hand and gently pulled me out. The ally was dark in color and I couldn't see anything. I was sure that my whole face was covered with blood. I looked at him and met his green eyes. They held no emotions. I couldn't see anything.

"My paper," I said and scrambled my hand in my jeans pocket to look for the paper which held so much importance to me. My jeans were torn and I could see little scratches here and there. My flip-flops were nowhere in sight, so I stood next to the ginger-haired guy barefoot. I moved and tried to get inside to car, but then he stopped me.

"I need the paper, it's very important to me," I told him and went to look for the paper. This time he didn't stop me. I looked for the paper but I couldn't find it. I got my school back, and my flip-flops were nowhere in sight, then I suddenly saw the paper lying on the ground. I grabbed the paper, kissed it and shoved it in my pocket. I got out of the car and when my feet made contact with the cold road, I shivered.

"What do you want from me?" I asked him.

He looked at me and didn't reply.

"Who are you?"

He kept looking at me but didn't utter a word.

"Can't you speak?" I asked him again.

I turned back to ask for help from the people whom I had seen standing there just after the accident, but now to my surprise, there was no one.

"Please say something," I didn't know where I was. I know the driver was unconscious and the best part was I didn't know where I was. The person who was standing in front of me didn't want to say anything.

Suddenly I saw him move. He removed his jacket he was wearing which gave me a nice view of his tattooed tanned arms. I thought he would give me the jacket to wear it but he didn't.

He threw his jacket on the floor and for the first time said something. "Step on my jacket, the road is cold."