Above the Vaulted Sky - Page 2

            I feel my mind drifting again, and it makes me feel drunk, so drunk that my vision swims and I almost collapse to the tarmac. If she's dead then I have to find her.

            I start running, moving my leaden legs, one after the other, to find the site of the car crash. The way is clear in front of me and I am oblivious to whether or not they can see me; the policemen, the firemen and the paramedics, crawling over the wreckage of the Triumph Spitfire that Mum thinks is a Ford.

            My little slice of freedom, the car I loved, now a twisted wreck beside a delivery van. I remember it too clearly for it to be real. It’s like I’m watching a video of the crash, over and over again. The screech, the swerve, the scream.

            Because he’d lost control, the simplest of things, a burst tyre; the slick surface of the road taking them into a spin which would collide with my paper-like car and end our lives.

            ‘I’m here!’ I yell, the rain stinging my lips.

            Maybe I’m not dead at all. Maybe I’ve just been thrown from the car.

            I run up to the nearest paramedic, hard at work as he tries to reach inside the delivery van. I can still hear the screams.

            Stomach churning, I reach out to him. Reach out and touch his shoulder, the high-visibility material slick to the tips of my fingers.

            I’ve never seen someone jump so much. He nearly hits his head on the jutting, mangled doorframe.

            ‘What the…?’ His lips move for him and he shivers, whipping his head around. His eyes remain confused, searching for the person who touched him. I am the window he stares right through.

            ‘Jesus, it’s cold,’ he mumbles, and turns back to his work. ‘We’re going to get you out of there ma’am!’ he calls, the wind howling; seeking attention.

            ‘Is Rory alright?’ she cries.

            ‘He’s – he’s just fine, Jane,’ he says, hesitating a moment, shaking off his involuntary shudder, eyes flickering to the right. ‘Let’s concentrate on the door…’
            But I'm staggering away, following his eyes. I am dead. I touched him and I caused such unexpected discomfort just by crossing the invisible barrier between the fighters below, and those who have already lost.