Prologue
I raised my head, gazing at the night’s sky. There were hundreds of thousand of glinting stars staring back at me, unlike the dull lid that wrapped and suffocated me that people called ‘sky’ in the city.
I glimpsed my parents far away, them linking hands and chatting amiably. Well, I wouldn’t want to be the third wheel, would I?
The straight country road was free of any stones and rocks that may trip me, so I started my back-walking with eyes still gazing at the blinking stars.
I have come to admire people for a lot of things, their beauty, wealth, wit, popularity… Well, many many things, and I have pitied myself for not having enough of them. I knew perfectly well that I’m definitely not considered beautiful. I’ve hated my high forehead, big nose, thick and connected eyebrows, caramel hair that pokes around and are never tamed, and with pimples covering the majority of my face that is somehow fawn in skin tone. My family aren’t rich, my grade has always floated up and down the middle line of the class, and I’m not popular at all. Though when the accident happened, when I realized I could even lose those, I’ve never wanted anything more than what I used to pity myself for.
As I walked backward without minding the road at all, my eyes were suddenly caught by a shine of yellow light in front of me. It took me a second to realize that it came from behind. A horn roared so close, and for an instant, my ears were deafened and tingling. My brain swam and I was giddy, but I kept stepping backward without knowing. A piercing screech followed the horning and I finally snapped out of my shock. I flung myself sideways to make way for the vehicle, teeth gritting with hair tangling and spraying all around me.
Everything happened so fast, but while I was in the air, still flying myself aside, time seemed to fix for a second. I saw a dull blue car with bright yellow headlight trying to slow, its tires screeching against the road. A man was swearing on the driver’s seat and glaring at me like I killed his dad. As I rolled in the air, I glimpsed the little light bulbs hanging on the sky switching on and off. If it was a movie, there must be a shot showing the stars’ reflection from my irises. My last thought before I hit the ground was: this is awkward.
In my imagination, I would roll on the concrete for a meter with arms covering my head, then safely lay there and wait for my parents to race to me, all concerned and anxious. This is what happens in a movie, right? But in the reality, there were a lot of hitting, bending, and scraping, it was a chaos and every part of me hurt. Before I could even gasp, I was wrapped in an icy handkerchief, so silky and slippery that it engulfed me like…water?
Yep, it was water! The cold woke me after an instant’s shock. My limbs twisted, stretched, and flung like the limbs of a dog. What should I do? I don’t want to die! I glowered my eyes wide in the water and saw nothing but a murky hint of green. I’m only fourteen, too young to die! The water caressed my shut lips like a gal’s fingers, warning me of the count down of my life. Wait, I’ve learnt how to swim. I can swim, you stupid! I extended my limbs and were blocked by rough concrete. I groped around, but no matter where I touched or kicked, there was always concrete blocking my limbs from extending. Am I surrounded by walls? Trapped? I fumbled, tumbled, and stumbled in the water in vain, only wasting my precious oxygen.
I sank, sank, sank in the bottomless icy water, as a thousand thoughts crossed my mind. The main characters in the movies always brush near to death, but eventually miracles would happen, and they would survive. But am I lucky enough to do so? The reality is always brutal. Will they fish up my pale and swollen body the next day and send it to my weeping parents? Or will my body be not found at all? Will I be another child who’s forever lost? Will my existence be erased from people’s mind? Afterall, I’m only an inconspicuous dot in the world who has accomplished nothing, and probably don’t deserve to be missed.
The suffocation started to press against my chest, churning, burning, boiling. Is dying always so painful? I squirmed in the water, wanting to rip my chest open as the suffocation gripped and squeezed at my lungs. Will I ever see the world again? Will I ever taste the sweetness of air again? The longing for oxygen was so overwhelming that I had to bite my lips to resist the temptation of breathing in water.
How could I have taken everything for granted?
My sinking slowed and a lot of slippery and supple fingers swirled and climbed up my legs, the cold touch making me shiver.
Is it the death’s hands pulling at me that they say in books?
