A/N: My second story. Another idea from my friend. If you feel like reviewing, please be as harsh as you deem necessary, but I will not say something like, "Review, NOW!!! But be nice!"
Something told me this day was going to end badly. Call it woman's intuition or paranoia, but I knew this day would go wrong.
My family, Rose, and I were headed to Missoula for a big shopping trip. It was nearly Christmas, and I still needed to get Mom and Rose something. The road was icy and covered with a light layer of fresh snow, but Dad wasn't having any trouble navigating the car. For a while.
We were nearing a curve in the road when the car started sliding around haphazardly. I could see Dad struggling to gain control of the car, and I could feel Rose's body tense beside me. The curve was coming fast, and the back wheels were still sliding towards it. Cold fear shot through me. Mom and Dad started shouting and Rose tried to pull me farther from the window.
The car spun off the road, sliding down the steep slope. I screamed as the car started to tumble and roll down the slope. It was a long way down. The windows smashed and I could feel shards of it slice my face and arms. My head banged against the roof of the car and my body was being slammed around the confined space.
The rolling stopped after what felt like hours. I slowly opened my eyes and took a self-assessment. Blood was dripping from my forehead and arms. I felt like I had been placed in a blender and put on "grate," but I was still functioning properly. I think.
Rose's slumped figure reached my peripheral vision. Her whole face was smeared with blood, and her throat looked like it had been torn out. Nausea built in my stomach, and I had to turn away.
Only to see my parents and brother.
If I thought Rose looked bad, they were horrible. Shards of glass were stuck in their faces and neck, my father's head was slumped on the steering wheel. Mom had her head back, and I could see blood dripping down her throat. Andre was thrown half-way out of the windshield.
Tears collected in my eyes, and a chilling terror swept through me.
"Mom…Dad…Andre…?" My voice sounded harsh and choked off. I gently placed my trembling hand against each of their pulse points. Please, please, oh please don't be…
They were. I felt nothing. A sob escaped my throat and tears slipped down my cheeks. I shrank back in my seat and breathed ragged breaths, trying desperately to collect myself. I looked over to Rose and checked her, too. Nothing. My best friend, my protector, my confident…dead.
No!
No! She couldn't be dead! I needed her! I needed her support. I needed her protection. I needed her friendship. I needed her love.
With a strange sense of calm, I carefully placed my hands on both sides of Rose's face. She couldn't be dead. She had so much to live for. She deserved to be alive.
A strange warmth spread through me, and a rush of happiness and joy filled my being. My hands felt tingly, and I willed Rose to wake up. Come on, just focus. Breathe in, breathe out. In. Out.
I thought about Rose's heart. Her unbeating heart. Just one little pulse, that's all I need. C'mon.
And I felt it.
Tiny pinpricks of blackness fluttered behind my eyes, and a searing pain flashed in my skull. I fell backwards on my seat, and that's the last I remember of that night.
The next thing I knew, I was in a hospital bed with an IV and wires sticking in my wrists. The doctors came in a short while later, bearing terrible news: my parents were dead.
But Rose wasn't.
My expression must have betrayed my shock and disbelief, but they assured my that Rose was going to be fine. A strange mixture of anguish and joy flowed through me, and tears of confusion slipped down my cheeks. I had healed her. I had actually healed her. The doctors called it a miracle. I called it a nightmare.
Dead people weren't supposed to come back; not unless they had turned Strigoi. So what was Rose? Had I really brought her back from the dead? How had I healed her?
Only time would tell, I guess.
I remembered my previous foreboding feeling before the crash. It sucks to be right, sometimes.