Playing My Part

This is just a little suspense story I wrote for my English III class recently. It's about a girl who gets in a tragic car accident with her boyfriend. He passes away and she is left paralyzed.

Playing my Part

            The car rocks slightly as we head down the long dirt road making our way quickly to the bridge. Neither of us say anything and I have learned in these situations it is best to just stay quiet. I pull my jacket sleeves down to cover up my scratched wrist and pull my hood down to cover up my now bruised eye. I cannot even see straight so I close my eyes briefly to rest before it happened. Someone reaches for the wheel and one second we are on the bridge and the next I am laying unconscious in a pool of someone’s blood.

            I woke up in the hospital to the relief of my parents but to the dismay of myself. Pieces of last night come back to me. Phone. Dinner. Bridge. Cold. Ashton. My blood runs cold and I jerk upright.  “Seirea no. Lay back down. You need to rest,” my mother says while stroking my hair and lightly pushing me back down. I open my mouth to protest but realize I do not have enough energy to so I go down without a fight. My head is throbbing. My muscles itch beneath my skin. My heart is pounding heavily in my chest. My right eye is completely swollen shut.  Everything hurts. Well everything except for my legs and in this moment that concerns me. I will my legs to move but they will not. I look to my mother and father for help or clarity as to what is going on but neither of them are looking at me. My mom has her head nuzzled into my dad’s chest and I hear soft sobs escape from her mouth. My dad is stroking her hair and whispers soft nothings into her ear. I cannot understand everything he is saying but what I did catch was “How are we going to tell her about Ashton?”

            A few days later, I am released from the hospital with some pain medicine. It does not really affect me because I feel numb anyway especially in my legs but that can be explained. I am paralyzed from the waist down with a zero percent chance of ever walking again. Well that is what the doctors told me but I am a fighter and I know I can do anything I set my mind to. Well almost anything…one time when Ashton and I first started dating, he had pinned me against the wall because he thought I had been flirting with his friend Trevor. I tried to tell him how I would not do something like that to him but he said he knew that already and he would make sure I never did. That night he raped me and told me how no guy would ever want a s**t like me afterwards. He said he was claiming me and boy did he leave his mark. My fingers slam against my wheelchair as anger washes over me. “Seirea,” my dad says hesitantly. I look up at his sullen face and watch the fine lines circling his eyes making him seem older. “I am sorry,” I whisper as I place my hands together on top of my lap. I can feel his eyes drilling a hole into the back of my head but I do not look back and I never will.

            When I get back home, we are greeted by Detective Bourgeon of Kershaw County. He is new here and I have not had the courtesy of meeting him until now. He takes in my dismantled appearance: unkempt, flaky chestnut hair, bruised eyelids, swollen cheeks, cut chapped lips, patchy red olive skin, and a dysfunctional limp body to top it off. His eyes are filled with what looks like regret before they come to rest upon my parents. He brushes past me to shake their hands and ask if he can speak to me privately. They stand there like deer trapped in headlights and I take it upon myself to answer. “I would love to but perhaps some other day. I just got out of the hospital which I am sure you are aware of and I need a few days to rest and recover,” I place my hands firmly on the wheels of my wheelchair and wheel myself to the front of the house with my  parents following in hot pursuit. They mumble quick apologies to the detective who watches with me concern and another look I cannot quite place. He reminds me of Ashton in this moment because I cannot read his feelings and expressions. One night, I had decided to go to a party with my friend Rossaline and I did not tell him where I was going. I did not see the problem with me not telling him where I was going but he did. He tracked my phone through the Friends app on my iPhone and drove me home. Strangely enough he told me he was not mad at me and that whole night he did not lay even a finger on me. He dropped me off at my house and even opened the door for me like a gentleman before bidding me goodnight. The next day however I found out Rossaline was in the hospital because she had been jumped the previous night after the party. I do not think it was a coincidence either how it happened. The person who jumped her had beaten her with a wooden baseball bat to the skull and left her for dead in a ditch. She is lucky to have survived that night at all. When I went to the hospital and asked her if she had seen her attacker she quickly looked away from me. I tried pushing her into telling me but instead she just pushed me away and later ended our friendship. When I told Ashton what happened, he did not seem that surprised or even that interested until I told him that she had asked me to never talk to her again. He gave a sly smirk and shrug of the shoulders before adding that “Things that will be, shall be and things that were not, wont.” I feel my blood run cold with fear at those words before I fall into unconsciousness.

            My eyes flutter open to the sunlight dancing across my face. I see my mother pacing around frantically in my room. I try to sit upright but a soft moan escapes from my lips as an unbearable pain shoots up my back. She runs over to me asking me if everything is alright but I quickly brush her away. Tears fill her doe like brown eyes and it takes everything in me not to run up to her and hug her. Well that and the fact that I am paralyzed from the waist down. She quickly looks to her feet as an awkward silence fills the room. By now she knows not to mention Ashton. His parents came over a few days ago to invite me to his funeral and ask me to write his eulogy. I should have said no because I am positive it would break their heart to know about the real wolf in sheep’s clothing but I feel inclined to leave them with some good memory of him so instead I agree. My mother brings me out of my reverie by mentioning the guys coming to work on adding a ramp to the house later. I want to ask her why she even bothered but I know that if I say that, she will have questions and truthfully the only one I feel like giving answers to is one man alone.

            Detective Bourgeon comes back to my house about a week later from his first visit. I stalk him like a prey from his car all the way to our front door. Ashton played that game with me once. He beat me unconscious after our one year anniversary dinner then left my body on an old wooded trail in the woods. When I finally woke up I thought I was living my worst nightmare. The headlights from his truck showed on me like a flashlight as he revved his engine up slowly. I called his name asking him what kind of sick twisted game he was playing but he only responded to me with a sinister laugh. I spent the rest of the night running for my life until finally I passed out from exhaustion. The next day I woke up in my bed with a text from him reading “Congrats Ser. Most of them do not make it as far as you.” Knock knock. The detective lingers at the doorway before I murmur for him to come in. He pulls up a chair beside my bed and I take a deep breath willing myself to calm down. “Seirea,” he whispers, “can you tell me what happened that night?” I close my eyes as I recall everything that happened that night. “Ashton and I were heading back from California Dreaming. Everything was going pretty good that day until he arrived to pick me up. We were already late for our reservation and he is-was a very punctual young man. He picked me up from my house and scolded me for wearing a dress that made me actually look appealing compared to the drab ones he usually buys me. You see, he does not think I need any attention unless it comes from him especially since I am a young woman and he feels that a woman’s place is behind and overshadowed by that of a man’s. I tried to subdue his anger by offering to change but he told me to shut up and get in so I did. Once we got to the restaurant, we were immediately taken to our table. Unfortunately we left about as soon as we got there because he felt that the waiter and I were flirting which he made a big scene about; I am sure the restaurant got some lovely footage of everything. He slung my coat at me and demanded we leave right then. I put my coat on and followed him out of the restaurant and back to his truck. Once we got there he went to open my door for me but instead of allowing me to get in, he pinned me to the side of the truck where he began to punch me repeatedly and tried choking me out for embarrassing him in front of everyone in the restaurant. I eventually made it inside the truck to escape from him briefly. He came inside a few seconds later, crunk up the truck, and began to drive me home. I did not want my parents to see me like this and hounding me with questions I did not feel like answering so I tried to cover up my face as best as I could with my jacket. The whole time we drove in silence and that is when something clicked in me. I sure as heck could not end things without making it worse so I decided I would make things easier for the both of us by taking both of our lives. Not as sweet as Romeo and Juliet but hey I welcome death in any kind of way. When we started rounding this curb around one of the bridges I grabbed the wheel from his hand and yanked it hard to my side. I closed my eyes briefly and then the next thing I remember was waking up in the hospital. I killed him Mr. Bourgeon and if given the chance detective, I think I would do it again.” He watches me before saying, “Tell me this then, where is his body?” I look at his face in disbelief. “His body was never found and there is no way we would have found you if someone had not spotted the car and the only way that would have happened would be if that someone else had been inside. I have not told the others yet and for now I have told his family that at the service of his death, his casket must remain closed since his body is in poor condition. A small lie here and there will not kill me.” I hurriedly look away from the detective as my heart races. Ashton is still alive. A ping comes from my phone and I pick it up hesitantly. The detective watches me with those steady eyes before telling me to read the text aloud. I hesitate briefly before I do as my blood runs cold. Ashton: Surprise. Surprise. I am still alive.”