The smoke could be seen for miles, but the true impact only from a short distance. There were two teenagers. The boy was cradled in the girl’s arms. They were lying in a pool of blood.
‘Liv…it’s time,’ the boy said. ‘Let me go.’
She trembled, bringing her hand up to his battered face. ‘I can’t, Sam! What will I do without you?’
But there was no answer. He was already dead!
I sit on my bed, panting and gasping. My pyjamas cling to my back. I stare up at the photos of Sam and me, a wall full of memories.
I make my way towards them, thinking, ‘Was it my fault?’ and ‘Why did it happen?’ I gaze over the wall, stopping on one photo. It was taken a year ago; I can remember it well. We were collecting our exam results. The August sun was shining. I’m looking up at Sam and his arm is around me. Facing the camera, he looks like a Greek god, dusty blond hair sticking out. He had this habit of running his hand nervously through it. His blue eyes sparkle with excitement. I look like Medusa – eyes weirdly green, my copper cropped hair frizzy, stuck to the back of my neck and curling behind my ears.
Rain smashes against the window and I’m knocked out of my trance. I think about the window shattering into a million pieces. I take one last look at my photos, and with all the force left in my body I rip down every one of them, every memory.
Realising what I’ve done I smack my back into the wall and flop to the ground; my voice cracks and I sob uncontrollably. For an hour I sit there in silence, just thinking; listening to the dreary rhythm of the rain.
I make a decision. I need to be somewhere safe, familiar. I speed down the stairs, head spinning, eyes unable to focus. I head straight for the door, remembering to pull my trench coat from its peg.
‘Olivia…where the hell do you think you’re going! It’s 7am for goodness…’
I slam the door, cutting off my mother’s voice. I rush down the street. All I can hear are the raindrops hitting the pavement.
Reaching my destination, I open the iron gate and stumble up the path, past the church to the grassed area full of stone slabs. My body takes me to the most familiar one.
Sam Linley
Born 16th May 1992
Died 13th March 2009
Beloved son and brother
Taken too early
May he rest in peace
Taking in a deep breath I start to talk. ‘Hi Sam, sorry I haven’t visited lately but I’ve been really busy… packing and stuff. Mum thought it would be a good if I stayed with Aunt Carrie for a couple of weeks while they redecorate my room. To be honest I think it’s ridiculous. I mean why can’t I help? It’s my room, after all. But they want me to have a change of scenery, to be relaxed before school starts again. Apparently I’ve been ‘too moody’.
The other day I went to the cinema with Katie and Chloe. It was a good film – a cheesy comedy – but it wasn’t the same without you. Remember when we used to sit on the back row and throw popcorn at the people in front. When they’d turn round we’d duck out of view. They were good times… I wish we’d had more. We could have had more.’
I feel a tear trailing down my cheek. Looking up towards the sky, I see the yellow sun breaking through the clouds. Smiling softly I turn back to his grave.
‘How am I going to survive, Sam? You were my life, my soul, my equal. But I will cope, I know I will. I promise I’ll visit you as soon as I get back and I’ll bring flowers next time. See you soon.’ I Lean forward and place a gentle kiss on his bed of rest. ‘I love you,’ I murmur.
