Chapter 8
I spent the rest of the day in a gloomy state of depression.
I didn’t go downstairs for tea or dinner and ignored Jo-Jo’s worried and insistent knocks on my door, preferring to dwell on memories of my family. I slept fitfully throughout the long hours of the night, deliberately twisting myself into uncomfortable positions to try and ward off deep sleep and the nightmares that would accompany it. No matter what the doctors had thought; it was impossible for me to move on just like that.
My breathing hitched as I untangled myself from my covers. My room had been growing steadily lighter for the past hour as the pale grey light of dawn seeped through the windows. I was so tired I felt like the walking dead, locked in a constant state of limbo. I was too scared to sleep but too tired to stay properly awake. My limbs trembled with exhaustion as I struggled out of bed and my vision blacked out. Panicking, I grabbed the side of my bed for support and froze until my vision slowly returned in little dots of colour. I slid down onto the floor and rested my head on my legs, waiting for my heartbeat to slow down again.
My thoughts were in complete conflict. Part of me hated myself for constantly dwelling on their death and the other half of me hated the fact that I wished to move on and forget about them. ‘God help you, Phoebe. You’re a complete mess.’ I rebuked myself. That was the only thing I was certain of.
I stayed slumped on the floor by my bed for an intangible period of time until a slight movement brought sharp pins and needles to my feet. My limbs screamed in pain from the tingling as I quickly pulled myself up and hopped around the room, trying not to cry out. Eventually, the burning feeling subsided and I sighed in relief. I gazed around the room for something else to distract me from sleep and my eyes alighted on my little wooden dresser. Making a snap decision, I tentatively crossed over to my dresser and grabbed a photo album I had placed there while unpacking. I crawled back into bed and snuggled deep into my warm duvet. I hesitantly opened up the album and peered at the first photo. It was the first time I had dared to open the album since my family’s death.
The photo was grubby from fingerprints and I carefully wiped away the smears using the corner of my pyjama sleeve. It was quite an old picture, taken three years ago just after a massive snowfall. The whole family had been stuck at home as we were completely snowed in and both the school and nursery were shut. We had decided to go and build a massive snowman in the garden, but we had failed spectacularly.
The photo showed my parents standing behind a huge pile of crumbled snow with mock pride on their face, with me crouched on one side and my little brother kneeling on the other. Jamie’s face was a picture of happiness, with a cheeky little toddler’s grin on his face and his cheeks flushed from the cold. He was wrapped warmly in a puffy coat and was wearing blue Spiderman wellies. His bobble hat was lopsided and he was only wearing one little glove, the other one lying discarded in the garden, only just visible in the photo.
My heart crumbled at the sight and my tears rolled freely down my face, plopping onto the photo with a tiny splash. I wanted to hug him so badly, to squeeze him tightly until he complained and to kiss his cute little nose. I longed to pick him up and dangle him upside down until he screamed with laughter and tickle him to tears. But I never could, ever again. ‘You of all people, Jamie, didn’t deserve to die.’ I thought miserably. ‘You were so young and so innocent!’ I carefully stroked his tiny face in the photo and bent down to kiss it.
I swallowed painfully around a lump in my throat and my eyes flicked to my dad. There he stood with an arm wrapped tightly around my mum’s waist, his hair tousled from the wind and laughter lines around his crinkled eyes. My mum was gently leaning into him and was laughing into the camera. Her green eyes were beautiful and full of joy and her tangled, chestnut-coloured hair was blowing around her face. She looked like an angel to me.
Finally, I glanced towards my own figure and almost laughed through my tears. I was still going though my spotty phase and had braces on my teeth which flashed in the sun. I had certainly changed a lot since then, but right now I wished with all my heart to travel back in time and relive the bliss of that day. A perfect moment with my family, without knowing what was to come and without the guilt I now felt slowly choking me. ‘It’s all my fault! I’m so sorry!’ I shut the album quickly and hurled it to the other side of my bed. My eyes prickled but I had run out of tears to cry. Drained of all emotion, I dragged myself into the shower and lost myself in the warmth of the water.
An hour or so later, I got ready for school, the thought of lessons making my head throb. I barely managed to stumble down to breakfast where Jo-Jo was dutifully waiting for me, an anxious expression on her face.
“You look awful, Phoebe!” She greeted me with concern. “Are you ill? Why didn’t you answer me last night?” She bombarded me with questions until my head felt like it would explode.
“Sorry, I went to bed early.” I barely managed to reply, my muscles aching from the effort.
“Really? You look like you barely slept at all last night! In fact, you don’t look like you’ve slept for days!” Worry was etched into her face and she put her arms gently on my shoulder and guided me down a corridor. “I’m taking you to the nurse, Phoebe. You can’t go to lessons in this state.”
I was too worn-out for any resistance and wearily allowed her to lead me to the nurse’s office. Along the way, the bell rang for lessons and I looked at Jo-Jo apologetically. I hadn’t wanted her to get in trouble for lateness. But Jo-Jo didn’t really seem to care. A few minutes later, she knocked loudly on a side door and pushed me inside, following a booming “Come in!”
The room was light and airy with a desk in one corner and a little collapsible bed in the other. A kind-looking woman sat in the desk chair, looking at me with interest.
“This is Phoebe Miller, Nurse Hutchinson. She’s new here and I don’t think she has been sleeping well.” Jo-Jo explained earnestly. “She looks like hell and is acting like a zombie!”
Somewhere at the back of my mind, I thought I should act indignant over her description of me but I couldn’t quite summon up the energy to do so. Jo-Jo released me and I swayed unsteadily on my feet.
“Thanks Joanne, I’ll take care of her now. I’ll write you a note for your next class explaining why you are late.” The nurse filled out a yellow slip of paper which she then handed over to Jo-Jo, who quickly left with a sympathetic smile for me. The nurse stared at me for a while until I began to feel self-conscious. I shifted my feet uncomfortably.
“Alright Phoebe, would you like to take a seat?” She gestured towards a cushioned chair by the side of the bed, and I sat down gratefully. “So tell me, what’s wrong with you?”
‘Everything.’ I thought.
“Nothing.” I lied. The nurse fixed me with a piercing glare and I quickly backtracked. “I’m not sleeping well at the moment. I haven’t for a while now and I guess my body is finding it hard to cope.”
“Hmm, is the problem that you can’t sleep or that you don’t want to?” she asked thoughtfully. I looked at her in shock; she was more perceptive than I thought.
“I don’t want to.” I confirmed in a low voice. “I’m scared to sleep. I have nightmares.”
Nurse Hutchinson pursed her lips and frowned slightly. “Nightmares? Have you had any kind of traumatic experience lately?” She looked deep into my eyes, her own probing, almost as if she could see my pain reflected there.
Slowly I nodded my head. “Yeah, I guess you could say that.”
Understanding dawned across her features and her eyes showed pity. I looked away from her; I didn’t want to see it. I hated pity.
“Would you like to talk about it to someone? We do have a school councillor here who could help.” She offered, but I shook my head vehemently.
“No, thank you.”
“Well, if you are quite sure,” she murmured. “You can’t go back to lessons though; you might not be ill but your body cannot function properly without sleep. I recommend you stay here and try to get some rest.” I looked at her with wide eyes. “I’ll wake you up if I see you having a nightmare.” She reassured me.
I nodded my thanks and clambered into the bed. The springs creaked slightly under my weight but the mattress was soft and comfy. My eyes snapped shut instantaneously and I nodded off to sleep…
I sat slouched in my car seat, listening to the rain thundering down on the car and watching the raindrops collect on my window. We were moving fast enough that the droplets of water were moving sideways which I found weirdly fascinating. The rain was so heavy that the windscreen wipers were on full speed and visibility was incredibly low.
“It’s raining, it’s pouring,
The old man is snoring.
He went to bed and bumped his head,
And didn’t get up in the morning.”
Jamie sang loudly next to me, bouncing around on his booster seat. I laughed at his enthusiasm and bent across to ruffle his hair. He dodged out of the way and stuck his tongue out at me.
“Nah, nah, you can’t get me!” He taunted in a typical five-year old way.
I grinned wickedly. “Wanna bet?” I reached over and tickled his side as he wriggled in hysterics, kicking the driving seat in the process.
“Careful kids!” My dad warned sharply.
“Sorry Dad.” We both chorused before winking at each other. I released Jamie and sat back in my seat, thinking about the evening ahead. My stomach fluttered with butterflies and my breathing got slightly quicker. I met my mum’s eyes in the driving mirror.
“Nervous?” She queried. I grimaced in reply. “Don’t worry Bee, you’ll be amazing. And no matter how well you do, you know that we’ll always be proud of you! You’re my talented little star and I love you to bits.”
I smiled at that. “I know Mum, thanks for the support. It’s just I’ve been working towards this for months and I don’t want to screw it up now.”
“Phoebe, you’re gonna knock ‘em dead! I can feel it in my bones!” My dad cut across and I rolled my eyes.
“Remember the last time you had a feeling in your bones?” I teased. “You swore it would stay sunny and it poured with rain and we all got soaked! You can keep your bony feelings!”
My brother gave a high-pitched giggle causing my dad to chuckle softly. “All the same kiddo, you’re going to be incredible. Stop being such a worrywart.”
“Okay Dad.” I said, feeling happier with their encouraging words. I peered out of the front windscreen at the dark road ahead. A pair of bright headlights appeared in the distance, blurred by the rain.
“Jamie? Do you want to play a game? How about I-spy?” I had decided amusing Jamie was the best way to keep my mind distracted.
My little brother squealed with excitement and cupped his face against the window in an attempt to see out.
“It’s too dark out there!” He complained, sticking his bottom lip out.
“It’s fine, we can do an inside one.” I placated him. He got all excited again and made a show of looking around the whole car.
“Okay, I spy with my little eye, something beginning with S!” He bobbed around on his booster seat, trying to suppress his glee. “You’ll never ever guess this one!” He declared boldly. I smirked at the challenge and cast my eye around. The bright headlights in front of us were a lot closer now and there was something odd about them. I shook it off and carried on thinking.
“Um, stereo?” I guessed. Jamie shook his head triumphantly and I racked my brains for S words.
“Seat? Sat-nav? Socks? Screen?” His head shaking grew more vigorous and he cackled.
“Give up?” He challenged, his eyes glinting. I bit my lip but I honestly couldn’t think of any more.
“Okay, fine.” I admitted defeat. It was worth it to see his happiness.
“It was steering-wheel!” He gloated. I groaned at how obvious it was. “I beat Bee! I beat Bee!” He chanted and did a weird little victory dance that made both my mum and I burst out laughing. My dad looked around quickly to see what was so funny and joined in with the laughter as he turned back round to face the road.
Everything seemed to happen at once in horrifying slow motion.
The other car was so close now that it was shockingly obvious what was wrong with the headlights; they were directly in front of our car. The other car was driving on the complete wrong side of the road.
My dad gasped in shock as he realised and twisted his steering-wheel sharply, slamming on the breaks to try and avoid a collision. The wheels span against the slick road and our car began a sickening skid across the road, the brakes squealing in protest. The headlights were so close now they were blindingly bright and I realised we weren’t going to make it. A crash was inevitable.
Jamie started to scream in fear and I joined in, squeezing my eyes tightly shut in panic. I felt the shock of the collision and cried out in pain as my seatbelt constricted against my chest and all my bones felt like they were about to crack. Shattered glass flew past me, scratching my hands that were covering my face for protection and I heard the car buckle in with a metallic groan. The force of the collision overturned the car and my head spun as we rolled, gasping for breath as I was thrown about like a limp rag doll.
Finally, with one last dreadful jolt, the car came to a halt, the last remains of glass hurling to the ground in a light, tinkling sound. Time gradually sped back up to normal as I sat there crying in a state of total shock; scarcely able to believe I had survived. Then a dreadful idea hit me like another collision, worse than before, battering my brain from the inside. All the other screams had ended. I immediately stopped crying and listened. It was completely silent. My lips parted in horror.
“Mum?” There was no reply.
“Dad?” Still nothing.
“Jamie?” Silence.
I started to panic, struggling against my seatbelt. I craned my head around awkwardly to see Jamie’s limp body sprawled out on his seat, one of his legs at a crooked angle.
“Jamie!” I screamed loudly, the force tearing my throat. I finally undid my seatbelt and I lunged across for him. Before I could reach him, a strong pair of hands pulled me back and removed me from the wreckage of the car. I struggled in protest and screamed even louder, my voice growing hoarse.
“It’s alright. We’re trying to remove your family from the car.” A calm voice tried to soothe me but I wasn’t listening. I needed to see my family, if only to reassure myself that they were only unconscious.
“Harry, call 999 quickly!” I heard another voice order. “We need police and paramedics! Tell them it’s serious, and there have been fatalities.”
And with that, I knew the sickening truth. They were dead. Gone forever. My mind could no longer cope with the situation. Dimly, I began to lose consciousness and fell faint against the person who was restraining me. The person lowered me to the ground and began roughly shaking me.
The shaking wouldn’t stop…
I opened my eyes to find the nurse shaking me awake, her mouth set in a grim line. My whole body was covered in sticky sweat and I could tell from the soreness of my throat that I had been screaming. I sat up in the bed, breathing heavily and trying to hold back the tears. Nurse Hutchinson handed me a glass of cool water and gently smoothed back the hair sticking to my forehead.
“If you don’t want to see a councillor Phoebe, then I can’t force you. But if you can’t find someone you trust enough to talk to about this, then God help your soul. Don’t let your nightmares consume you.” She spoke tenderly, but her words were grim.
At that moment, a quick knock came at the door and the Nurse opened the door to let in a pale, trembling boy with a cloth around his hand, followed by a teacher.
“Sorry about this, Nurse Hutchinson. The silly boy dropped a glass beaker and cut his hand…”
I froze in shock. My eyes shot instantaneously to the teacher who had stopped talking and was gaping at me with a peculiar expression on his face. The nurse was busy attending to the injured boy and noticed nothing amiss. I saw the worry in the teacher’s face as he gazed at me and the compassion in his eyes was overwhelming.
I gulped. “Hi, S-Sir,” I managed to stutter.
He smiled gently at me but his eyes remained troubled. “Hello, Phoebe.” Mr Cooper softly replied.