Some Kid

Short Story

 

Some Kid

 

Darkness...The only thing that existed was pure, black, darkness. But enveloping from the darkness, I began to feel a numbed throbbing. Slowly, the throbbing grew stronger, began pulsating through stranger, more randomized places on my body. The numbness began to fade, and pain was surfacing slowly. Slowly, with pain gripping me, I attempted to open one eye. Withdrawing my sight quickly, blood leaked down into my eyelids, snapping them just at the sting. I grunted in the most uncomfortable ways, trying to move my arm to my face and wipe clear the scarlet mask. After what seemed like an hour, I could peak my eyes out to witness what had befallen me.

 

Small fires burnt on the roadside, ignited by gasoline puddles all around the pavement. The odor of burning rubber caught my nose. Glancing around my carcass of a vehicle, I noticed shattered glass on the floor of the passenger side, as well as the seat. Both airbags had deployed, the one meant for me had done its job, obviously. I could hardly move now though, my entire body a mass of agony. I could tell thankfully, that nothing was broken. I was a doctor in a nearby city, and had also had my fair share of reckless teenage days, so I knew what it felt like. That didn’t help my predicament much though. I tore the deflated air bag out from my lap, and tossed it to the side. The seatbelt was snapped off the door side, and flung up in my face the second I began to adjust my position.

               

But as I went to jiggle the door handle, horror struck me, whipping around to the backseat. Eyes growing wide, I began a meek attempt at calling for my son. My six-year-old boy, Lee, had been in his seat on our way home from his pee-wee soccer game, when I had swerved to avoid a deer, running the nose of the car into the god-forsaken tree. I was not currently horror-struck at a dismembered, mutilated body of my child, but more forsaken of the fact that there was no body to be dismembered. He was missing, and his car door was wide open. Wild thoughts began to run through my mind. Had he been flung from the door? Did he get out of the car after I was knocked out? I could only panic as I frantically made an attempt at my door handle.

 

Eventually, I became sick of trying to budge my way out of the jammed door. The car was a wreck, I didn’t mind hurting it some more. I slid to the passenger side seat as far as I could without cutting myself on the shards of glass, and picked my feet up onto the seat, rocking my hips back. I shot both legs out and hit the door with a force that knocked it off its hinges and onto the dark road. Crawling my way out the door, I stood, using the torn up roof as a support. My calls grew stronger, as I searched down the miles of empty road for a sign of my son.

 

“Lee! Lee!” I called, “Can you hear me?!” Desperately and maniacally, I began walking in small circles around the crash site. I noticed a small bracelet next to a piece of chunk metal that had been thrown from the hood. Picking it up, a quick examination told me it was his. But it was far from the crash site. Too far for any human, even a boy his size to be thrown. He had walked this far and apparently farther, for there were no more signs of life along the stretch. I could only do one thing, which was obvious to me.

 

I started to walk, more along the lines of a quick limp, down the road, searching the ditches along the sides for any more clues. After walking for what I would have guessed about four miles, I heard a familiar nose. It was faint, off in the distance, but growing louder and closer very rapidly. Quickening my pace, I strained to see what I hoped for. Then there it was.

 

On the horizon, I noticed a faint flashing light, followed by sirens and horns. The ambulances had found me, and were being escorted by a fire truck and three police cars. Falling on my knees, I threw my hands in the air and waved with all the energy I had left. As they grew closer, and slowed to a stop, I fell on my side, releasing any last breath I had been carrying. Medics and officers rushed to me, as the fire truck sped past us on the side. Laying me flat, they told me to relax and stay still. Hoisting me onto a stretcher, they started to wheel me to the doors of an open ambulance.

“Wait…”I managed, “My son…he…”

“Yes sir,” came the reply from an older medic, seeming to be the superior of the group, “We have your son at the hospital. He’s being well taken care of. You owe him a big thanks sir, and you must be proud. He walked 7 miles from the crash site to the first house he came in contact with. Told the residents all that happened and they called 911. Some kid you’ve got there.”