A vase of sunflowers. A teddy bear. A stark white cross. A single red rose wrapped with lace. Reminders of an ended car journey.
Neither of us speaks of that evening. Fate chose us to be survivors. She would have rather died with Dad and Mark, even if it meant leaving me alone.
I float in and out of reality. I avoid darkness. I sleep with the light on, but even still I hear the savage percussion of metal, feel cold pour over me, like winter seawater. Mostly I want to chase daylight across the face of the earth.