Gray Angel

Prologue

Aletta watched in awe as snowflakes floated gently onto the sleek road. She admired each, individual pattern they possessed that made them unique.

They were like tiny stars, glimmering with the intent to make the 5 year old smile.

She opened her mouth, and breathed onto the fern-like patterns at the base of the car window.

The sparkling frost melted away, and small droplets of water trickled from the circular image formed by the heat of her breath.

Outside was dark, and the trees seemed black among the oxford coloured sky.

A gentle rumble calmed Aletta, and her eyelids-- though not heavy with sleep-- closed, taking in the peaceful atmosphere she found herself in.

She grew aware of another's gaze directed at her, and she opened her eyes.

Mother was watching her from the passenger's seat. A kind smile was spread across her face.

She was fair skinned with hazel coloured eyes, and wavy auburn hair. In a way, Mother reminded Aletta of a young faun.

"Are you enjoying yourself, sweetie?" she asked with a sing-song voice.

Aletta returned the smile, and nodded enthusiastically.

From the rear-view mirror, Aletta could see Father watching her.

He was also fair skinned, but his hair was sand coloured, and his eyes blue like the sea. He wasn't a large man, but Aletta still found that she fit into his arms perfectly.

Aletta looked more like her father than she did her mother, but she had her mother's personality.

"Are you warm enough?" his deep voice asked.

She pulled the soft pink blanket from her backpack and held it up as reassurance.

Father nodded with satisfaction, and returned his gaze to the road.

Mother unbuckled her seat belt, and leaned over to tuck the blanket around the little girl's legs. She patted her daughter's knee with a slender hand.

"We love you, Aletta."

Those were the last words the little girl ever heard from her parents.

She remembered seeing the white dog dart onto the road from the forest.

Father spun the wheel to avoid hurting the animal, the soft white wisps now streaking across her vision like lightning in a storm.

The tires screeched as they tried to grip the asphalt, but the melted snow caused the car to glide.

Unable to stay on the road, the car rolled; metal crunched, and cracks splayed across the windows like a spider web.

Mud flew into the air, and Aletta shut her eyes tight as she lurched in all directions behind her seat belt.

Wet and cold splashed onto her clothes and face.

She prayed with deep sincerity that the nightmare would end, and that everything would be alright.

Strangely, no one in the vehicle screamed.

At least, she didn't remember it.

The crash was so loud, it would have drowned out any other sounds.

Finally, the rolling stopped, and Aletta felt herself hanging upside down in her seat.

She kept her eyes closed tight, expecting Mother and Father to rush over and comfort her with their warm embrace, but all she was left with was the hiss of the dying engine, and the howl of the wind.

She opened her eyes slowly, and looked to where her parents should have been.

Mother wasn't in her seat, and father was hanging upside down, his arms dangling over his head.

Aletta could see his deep blue eyes watching her in the rear view mirror, but they never blinked, and seemed empty.

She didn't remember unbuckling herself, or climbing through the broken window.

Soon she found herself climbing the slippery ridge, making her way back onto the road.

Blood soaked into her blanket as her little hands pulled the fabric tight over her shivering body.

She remembered the pain, and the bitter cold piercing her small frame as she looked down the long stretch of highway.

She remembered searching for Mother. Mother needed to help Father, because something was wrong with him.

She remembered walking for a long time before an old man stopped his giant truck, and sat her beside the heating vents while he spoke into his walkie-talkie.

She remembered the red and blue lights.

She remembered the people putting Mother and Father into bags while a nice lady bandaged her hands.

It was all so surreal.

She remembered little else, as nothing else mattered.