A/N: This is just a one-shot of how Tory's mum died. I altered it from the book a lot, and I added in a lot of stuff, well just read it okay? You'll find out soon.
Tory's POV
I adjust the seat belt as my mum pulls out of the driveway. We're heading for my friend Tara's house to pick her up, so that we can go to the movies. I am in the back seat, so that I can sit next to my best friend. She doesn't go to my school, but we spend pretty much all of our time together when possible. Tory and Tara. Inseparable. I smile as I remember crying together when her guinea pig died when we were six, laughing together when we put glue on our teacher's seat before I skipped a grade and she changed schools, deciding to run away together when her family moved to LA, then moving in together for a few weeks when they moved back a few months later. Tory and Tara. Tary and Tora. Best friends for life.
"What's funny? My mum asks, glancing in the rear view mirror.
"Oh, nothing. Just, you know, thinking about the movie trailer." Not true, but if I tell Mum we put glue on Mrs Crosslea's seat, she'll probably have a fit. Anyway, only Tara and I know about that, something I don't want to change at the moment. And the white lie sounds reasonable, because in the reviews of the movie it was supposed to be very funny. My mother just nods and returns her attention to the road.
A car zips past us, way over the speed limit. My mother frowns. "People take these corners much too fast. It's very dangerous, for them and the people around them, who are doing the right thing." My mum is a bit of a rule breaker, but only small rules that can't hurt people, not safety laws or anything like that.
"Anyway, I'll stop ranting before you start to see me as some kind of authority figure," my mum laughs. We reach the crossroads opposite the road leading to Tara's house. Luckily, we reach the lights just as they go green and we pull out to go across the road. Just as we go past the lanes leading across our path, I see something in the corner of my eye.
I'll never forget it, ever. One moment, it was just me and my mother, laughing together. The next, there were screams and honking horns and even minor explosions, but no laughter. The car was a mess, or rather part of a mess, as the remains of a white Mercedes were jammed through the front. I could see the form of a person, but I couldn't tell whether they were male or female, unconscious or dead. I didn't care at the moment. There were scrapes and cuts up and down my arms and on my tummy from the broken glass, but I didn't care about that either. "Mum? Mum!"
It didn't make sense. Why was I searching frantically for her, when it should have been the other way around? In the distance, I heard sirens. Good, someone had realised my mother was missing. Adults would come to help. I had a few seconds relief, then I saw it. Red hair covered in red blood. All other sounds faded out, like I was hearing them from underwater. All I could hear clearly was my own breathing, ragged but constant. And another sound, the sound of my mother's breathing, which sounded like nothing because she wasn't breathing. (AN: I know that the paragraph was in past tense but Tory is thinking about this from the time of the next paragraph, if that makes sense. )
My brain goes numb. I can't have lost her. She can't be gone. She's the only family I have left. We lived with her parents, who both died when I was young. I never knew my father, although as far as I know he's alive. He doesn't eve know he has a child, unless he does have kids with someone else. I don't know. I know nothing about him. And just for the moment, I know nothing about anything because my mother is gone.
The funeral is in a few days. The nurses and my mother's old friends talk to me sometimes, tell me that it's good that I am out of the hospital, that I can go to the funeral and pay my respects. My respects? Do they have any idea what they are saying? I owe my mother a lot more than respect. And anyway, I'm having mixed feelings about the ceremony. I have to say goodbye, of course, but every time someone mentions my mother I want to scream, but I can't because my brain shuts down. Only Tara seems to understand, just a little bit.
Every time I see her, and that's often because I'm sleeping at her house, I am reminded of that hamster. She talks about that hamster sometimes. Tary is the only one who doesn't make me feel pain for my mother. She talks about normal things, like school and homework and Evelyn's boyfriend, and about little things that make me smile, like the jasmines in the park and her neighbour's fairy birthday party and how Mellie from across the road has changed her favourite colour back to purple.
One day some old guy in a black suit comes to talk to me. I ask Tara to stay but she can't, because the old guy says no. Who gave him the authority to order Tara around in her own house? But she just gives me a reassuring smile and leaves. I stare coldly at the man. He tells me his name which I forget immediately. Than he tells me he is here to deal with my mother's will. I sit up straighter. "So, Victoria, you have been staying with the Browns since being released from hospital, correct?"
"Yes."
"And you are still residing with them?"
"Well, clearly..." This man isn't very bright.
He clears his throat and continues. "In your mother's will, she states that her first preference for your location of residence is with your father, Christopher Howard." I gape. I have never met him, I'm sure he doesn't know I exist. "However, if your father could not be located or refused to take you in..." What? You can't do that, can you? Refuse someone's will and refuse to take in your daughter? "...Browns." What did he say? I wasn't listening in the slightest.
"Sorry, what?"
He sighs. "In the case that your father Christopher refuses to take you in, your mother's second preference for your location for residence is with the Browns, if they will take you." I am stunned. I can't believe it. I always wanted to know my father, but ever since I was little this place has been my second home. It feels more home-like than my own little house a few streets away, with their dog barking and siblings arguing and toys all over the floor. I am undecided.
"I don't know." Why is he looking at me like that?
"Miss Brennan, your opinion and desire are not taken into account." What? I don't get a say in the matter? Well, since I don't know, I suppose it's okay to let other people make the decision. But I need to know more.
"What about the house? And all my stuff?"
"The house will be rented out until you are 21, and then, along with the rest of your mother's stored money and possessions which she has listed as being unnecessary for you at this point in time, will then belong to you." (A/N: I have no idea how this legal stuff works, so just bear with me. I am under the age of 14 and I wouldn't have a clue if any of this is accurate. Well, whatever.) Oh. Okay. I might feel differently under normal circumstances but I feel numb again, so I just say 'thanks' and he leaves. I curl up on the couch and after what seems like decades, I drift off into a dreamless sleep.
So, there you have it. I really hope you liked it, and just to let you know, even though Tory ends up living with Kit (Yay!) and Whitney(boo) she keeps in contact with Tara and sometimes Evelyn via Skype/email. Please review! If it gets enough good feedback I might just write the first awkward meeting with Kit, quote quote straight from the book. Anyway, thanks for reading! Discaimer: I don't own Virals, Kathy Reichs does. Thank you for your time!