Innocent Part 2 (Short Story)

A raven squawking brings me out of the memory I have half created. I look at it perched on the monstrous oak tree; it looks at me unblinking, like it knows me. A cold chill goes down my spine and I shiver.  I look back to the grave and can’t breathe again. My head feels heavy and my throat tightens as I try holding back my tears. My vision blurs. I look up to the dark gray sky and squeeze my eyes firmly shut.

I don’t understand, why her? Why not me?  Then it’s back. The memory begins to unfold once more.


I push the steering wheel sharply to the left, my jaw clenched. I feel my body being thrown to the side, my shoulder slams into the door but I hold on through the pain. There are screams. Then I hear the sound of screeching metal and then darkness.

I smell petrol, smoke and blood. I open my eyes; my head is on the steering wheel. A warm, sticky liquid runs down my nose and as it reaches my mouth I taste iron. I try to move my left arm, but I can’t. I panic as I continually try to move it but it won’t budge. My right arm however, I use to wipe the blood from my damp face.

As I do so I look to my right. I want to scream but no sound comes out.  My little sister is looking at me, terrified. She gives a deep rattling breath. She moves her lips a little but she can’t seem to form any words. Oh god! I think to myself, as I see the blood forming around the tree branch that’s pieced in her chest. I squeeze my lips together and take a breath as I use my good arm to take her hand which is firmly by her side. It’s going to be fine I tell her, she only blinks in response.

I look frantically around but there isn’t anyone around not even the little girl. I try to move, try to free myself but there is no way, my arm is firmly stuck.  I look back at my sweet, little, innocent sister and let the realisation that she will probably die here sink in. I can’t cry or break down I think to myself as I take her hand back in mine and just talk to her. She listens and tears fall down her cheeks as I tell her stories of our childhood. I know that these funny stories don’t dull the pain but I hope and pray that it’s enough to keep her strong.

Her breathing starts to get shallower and shallower by the minute and her skin is beginning to drain of colour as the blood on her chest spreads and spreads. I love you I say when I know that the time has come to say goodbye. Her mouth twitches, her eyes flicker and she lets out her final breath like a sigh and she’s gone.


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