The bad boy and the Lolita

35

"It was late afternoon, but not quite night when it happened. We were coming home from the store, picking up things for my dad's birthday. We were singing along to the radio, (Badly might I add) and my mom wasn't fully paying attention to the road. But she stopped at a red light, when out of seemingly nowhere, a gas truck comes speeding at us on the wrong side of the road. We don't have time to react, and before we know it, our car is crushed. 

I can only cover her eyes as the truck comes speeding to us, and I scream. I reach to Luna and shield her as best I can. It's not enough though, as glass all but severs her eyes. A loud sound resonates, and I squeeze my eyes shut.

When I open mine, all I see is fire. Wreckage everywhere, and I look around. My mom is laying there, motionless, and glassy eyed. Bits of her brain are splattered on the asphalt, and so are her organs. Her spine is severed in two, and her arm is bent at an odd angle. I look away and at my arms. Bone is sticking out of them, and I can't feel my legs. But that doesn't bother me. What bothers me is the fact my sisters' eyes are hanging from her sockets, blood running down her face. 

Spots are dancing in my vision as I'm fighting to stay awake for her. She's crying under me, saying she can't see. I'm trying to tell her it will be okay, and that I won't let anything happen to her. She was so small. Only five. I was fourteen when it happened. I heard the sound of a siren, and breathed a sigh of relief. As they pulled her out from under me, pulling Debre off me, I gave in, and passed out. 

When I woke up again, it was six months later. I got lucky when you think about it. Snapped arm, and two broken legs. I had to undergo a few surgeries while I was comatose, but the doctors figured I'd pull through. When I woke up, the first thing I asked was where my mother was. I had hoped it was all a nightmare. But it wasn't. My mom was dead on impact, and I was lucky to survive from the impact. Luna though, survived no problem, but was blinded for life; a small price to pay though, since if it wasn't for me, she would have been completely crushed. 

Thunder sounds very similar to explosions, you know? That's why soldiers freak out when they hear it. That's why I come close to being sick when I hear it and became sick when I heard it. I guess you could call it PTSD, but I'd rather live with it, knowing there was nothing I could have done for my mother, and I managed to save my sister. But man, it freaks me the fuck out when I think of it." Mitsukuni was rubbing my back soothingly as I finished the story, and most of the club looked like they were going to hurl too. 

Can't say I blame them one bit.

We all went to bed a few hours later, all crashing in spare beds or the couches at the pension. When morning came, Arai came with a watermelon, and all was right with the world. 

Except it wasn't. The club knew that I was still a little shaken up from last night, and I think they were too. 

Who wouldn't be after seeing their mothers mangled corpse in front of them at fourteen?