Cars were my life. They were my freedom. Cars were what brought in the food to my house and kept a roof over my family's head. Cars were just…everything. I lived and breathed them ever since I was a little girl. It started with my daddy, an honest guy who loved his family and did his best to support them. He had worked at the same garage ever since he was sixteen years old and always talked about getting one of his own someday and that he was going to build a brand new car that would change the world. It was his dream and every weekend I remember going into that garage with my big brother Alex to sit on my own little stool that was kept aside for me, helping myself to cookies and treats the other guys affectionately gave to me whenever they thought my daddy wasn't looking.
I learned everything I knew from him, from cars to math and even to riding my first bike. He'd be home the same time every day, waiting at the table for him so that we could eat dinner together, him smelling of engine oil and sweat but none of us caring, insisting that he sat down and not bother taking a wash and that washing off his hands was plenty enough. We were happy together, me, daddy, mom and Alex. He was just like my dad, same bright eyes, tangled mop of dark hair and a crooked grin that could warm you from the inside out. Alex and I did everything together, being close in age we didn't really remember a time when we didn't have the other. Our dad taught us both how to fix up cars, how to repair them and would even let us help from time to time, gaining experience before we could barely talk. Mom said he was a bad influence, but dad would just laugh and say we both just had natural talent.
When Alex became old enough to drive, it opened up a whole new world to us. I remember watching the older kids drifting through Tokyo, taking on one another in extreme races which would set my heart pounding in exhilaration and Alex swore he was going to become the best driver in the city. Me being me, of course, I never dissuaded him. I never cautioned him, never told him to be careful. I pushed and supported him, worked hard in order to help him learn how to drive like all the rest and learned on the go myself. When we figured out that racing could earn you a lot of money, we went at it even harder.
Our parents struggled enough as it was, however when we started to bring in a little more every month or so, things got easier. It took a while for them to catch on and mom didn't like us driving around so recklessly, however dad cooled her off and gave us a 'talk' whereby he told us that we were old enough to make our own decisions but he didn't like us putting ourselves at risk like that. For a while Alex and I didn't think anything of it. We were kids having fun, all we wanted was the thrill of the ride and soon enough we were getting ourselves a reputation. Alex was the fastest straight line racer around and I, well, I drove a little uniquely. I become known as the best backwards driver of all. Life was great for a while, but then like all things, life smacked us in the face.
When I got the call I was in school and had to get permission to leave. I raced all the way to the hospital, running for all I was worth until I heard the screeching of wheels and my brother raced up beside me, flinging open the door so I dove inside. "You heard? Mom called you?"
"Yeah she called, buckle up sis, we'll be there soon." Alex promised and he refused to move until I was strapped in though my hands were shaking so much from nervous anxiety that I could barely clip in the buckle until finally, I was in. Glancing across to me with worry Alex moved forwards, driving us to the hospital and swung into a parking space without even noticing the other person trying to take it, earning a very angry honk which we both ignored. The moment we were both outside Alex grabbed my hand and instantly I felt a little more secure. His broad shoulders easily moved us through the thick throng of people, solid and confident as he kept a straight face all the way through the hospital until we'd found mom waiting for us outside a door.
I was already crying, sobbing as I flung myself into her arms and she too was struggling to hold herself together so Alex swept us both up into his arms, already taller than our rather small statured mother and he comforted us both. "What happened? Is dad gonna be okay?"
"He's going to pull through, the doctors have already stabilised him but…" Mom trailed off as she wiped her eyes then took a deep breath. "Listen, you're both going to have to be very brave, okay? You see…well…your dad won't be able to walk anymore." I stared at her in disbelief, my throat going completely dry.
"What do you mean mom? Did something happen to his legs? You haven't even told us about the accident yet, was it at work? What…"
"Cora." When I heard Alex's rumbling tone I stopped and looked at him, seeing how he was barely able to hide his fear and concern behind a mask of stone coldness. "It's gonna be okay. Dad's alive and right now, that's all that matters. Right?" Clamping my mouth shut I nodded my head in agreement trembling still as mom dabbed at her face with a tissue just as the nurse arrived, speaking in fast paced Japanese which we all listened to before we were allowed inside. Instantly Alex reached out and placed his hand over mine, giving me a loving and comforting squeeze with a smile and I was infinitely grateful to him as he walked me inside.
Dad was resting with his eyes closed, the monitor tracking his heart rate and I was relieved each time I heard the piercing beep, however when I saw the two stumps that were covered by the blanket of the hospital bed, I froze. It all rushed at me all at once, the realisation that things were not okay. Things were going to be much harder from now on and dad was going to be the one to struggle the most. He won't walk again, won't run again, it'll be a miracle if he could ever even work again. But, in the next moment, I sudden felt a surge of determination. I wasn't going to let this be the end. I'm going to help my dad in any way I can. We can pull through this, as a family. We'll work hard together and we'll find a way and as Alex gave my hand another squeeze, it were as if he were silently agreeing with me.
"Honey? Honey are you awake?" Mom gently coaxed my dad from sleep and as his eyes flickered I went for his other hand, gently wrapping his fingers in mine and pressing a kiss to his skin as he hummed.
"Can a man ask for anything more than to have his family close to his side?" He questioned and I gave him a brave smile as he brushed his thumb against my cheek. "Look at you Cora, have you been crying again? You cry so easily these days."
"Can't seem to help it daddy, girls are very emotional you know." I told him honestly and he chuckled at that. Alex stood next to me, one hand on my shoulder and the other against dad's, looking as if he too were coming to certain realisations and making his own promises.
"You don't worry about a thing dad. We'll get through this no problem. I'll find more work for now and we'll get you back to your old self in no time. Right mom?"
"That's right sweetie. We'll all be just fine." She agreed, all three of us smiling and as my dad smiled back, I caught a slight twinkle at the corner of his eye, the light catching a single tear as it slipped down his cheek so I reached forwards and kissed it away, starting to tell him all about my day at school and how my tests had gone, thanking him for helping me to study. Things after that were harder, but somehow we made ends meet. Alex found more work and dad helped mom at home however he could, adapting to his wheelchair and although I was young, I could still understand that my parents had to make cuts and sacrifices in order to pay off the hospital bills and for his medication. That's why I insisted that I only wanted school supplies for my birthday and that for Christmas, I suggested a new tradition that we had to secretly take something of someone else's that they had used or had years ago, wrap it up and then we would share our memories by the tree. I had taken my brother's first train set and he had laughed after unwrapping it, revelling in the memories of his boyhood and had actually got it all out to play with it again, fixing anything that was broken.
It helped to cut costs and I began learning how to do up and mend clothes so that I didn't need to buy new school uniforms, finding ways in order to help however I could until I would be able to find a job of my own. If anything, dad's accident only brought us all closer. He was home more often, which I knew my mom enjoyed and he spent even more time helping me to study so even my grades went up a little higher. The only thing was, to actually afford most of what we needed, Alex decided that he needed to race more. He got himself into higher stake races and now that I was a little older, I began to see just how dangerous it was.
"Alex, I really don't like you racing like this all the time." I told him one evening we were out in the garage, working on his car to try and fix it up after the last race. He'd clipped a wall with his front end and smashed the lights completely, meaning we had to refit most of the front. "We can't afford to be constantly fixing up the car, it's costing more than its worth."
"It's okay Cora, we're doing just fine." Alex waved me off, grinning as he ruffled my hair. "You worry too much, you used to love this stuff."
"I do love this stuff but I love you more. I don't want to see you get yourself hurt. Remember that other guy last week and that crash? They literally had to cut the car in half just to pull him out and by then it was too late. If I ever have to pull you from a wreckage, I think that would just about finish me off, let alone mom and dad." Try as I may, Alex just wouldn't listen.
"Just one more race sis, one more race and we'll be set for the rest of this month." It was always just one more race. I was convinced that part of the reason he raced at all was because he loved it too much. His car was his pride and joy. He'd won it in a race and we'd spent the last four years building it up and making adjustments, customising it so that it would race for the big leagues. The Mitsubishi EVO was his pride and joy, something he had caringly built up and repaired time and time again with my help. It was black and yellow, his favourite colours and he'd stay up late into the night to make last minute tweaks and modifications like it were the most important thing in the world.
Of course I still had my brother's back and I always went with him to his races, because even when we disagreed over something, we never gave up on each other. "You be careful, you got me? I don't care about anything else, just so long as you're able to at least walk home with me at the end of the day." I told him as I leaned into the car through the window, listening to the gentle hum of the car as he flexed his fingers over the wheel.
"Well if you wanna show everyone how it's done little sis you could always take over?" He offered and I grinned at him.
"And steal all your glory? Now that hardly seems fair to you now, does it?" Knuckling his head affectionately I then kissed his cheek. "Good luck, remember not to grind the gears this time."
"Whatever you say Cora, I got this." Nodding my head I crossed my fingers at him to say I was rooting for him before I stepped back, nervously taking a breath. Everyone was cheering and shouting as the two cars pulled up to the starting line, revving their engines in anticipation. When they were given the go I heard the tyres all screech and the burning scent of rubber filled my nose as my brother shot out into first, racing forwards as everyone recorded on their phones and uploaded to a live stream for everyone to watch. The moment my brother was out of sight, I got this terrible feeling in my gut that something was going to go wrong. I felt sick and there was a metallic taste at the back of my throat which I couldn't swallow back so I took several deep breaths, leaning back against one of my friend's parked cars. Thankfully my sense of trepidation didn't amount to anything. My brother won the race and we drove home happy, the money now in my care so I could hand it over to mom, but still I felt slightly uneasy. I kept on looking over at my brother, seeing that contented smile on his face.
Turns out, I was right about being worried. It wasn't in a race, my brother was just driving with a bunch of his friends, trying to feel better about himself after losing his car. It had been a few weeks later that my brother tried racing for slips but lost, losing his EVO in the process, however with all his friends drinking, they were in no state to be driving. They drifted onto the wrong side of the road and got hit by a truck. None of them survived, not even Alex. When I got to the hospital, my mom was sobbing against my father who was trying to comfort her, tears in his eyes and as I approached them, I knew. Alex hadn't made it.
I didn't even realise I had screamed until two nurses shook me awake, helping me to stand upright until I collapsed to the ground all at once and sobbed like a broken wreck upon the floor. I felt like a part of me had been snapped off and set on fire, leaving open wounds to fester and bleed. I couldn't even bring myself to look at him until his funeral where he lay in the open casket until he was buried in a small, overcrowded plot which he shared with hundreds of others, nothing more than worm food. I was angry. Angry at him, angry at his friends, angry at cars and trucks and anything I could blame for taking my brother away. I even blamed the races. If he hadn't lost that damn car then he wouldn't have been pushed to such a place, so after that moment, I refused to get into a car again.
Even after I graduated and finished school, life was a struggle. Mom couldn't work much on account of needing to help dad at home so it was left to me to bring in the main supply of money. I worked three jobs and lost most of my friends except those who were genuine and they were the ones whom I accepted to be close to me. I pushed everyone else away, refusing to open up until finally they persuaded me to come back and at least watch the races. It was nostalgic going back, however as I began to become surrounded by cars once more, I found myself remembering how much I'd loved them before.
One car I had seen was in desperate need of some fixing up, so before I knew it I had picked up someone's tools and set to work, fixing the issue and when I was done, the car purred to life again. "Look at that she fixed it! Damn girl, you are my hero I thought this thing was never gonna start. Name's Twinkie, you need anything, you just call out my name." Arching an eyebrow at the much younger kid I suddenly laughed.
"I don't know what kind of circles you've been sneaking into kid, but you are definitely too young to be driving this thing and definitely too young to be hitting on me." I told him before ruffling his hair. "Nice try, but I appreciate the attempt." Twinkie grinned at me, barely coming up to my shoulder as an eleven or something year old kid with braids who had somehow worked his way into the racing circuit. Though I could hardly say anything, I was racing at his age even before I'd got my licence. Twinkie shifted a little guiltily before admitting that it wasn't actually his car but he'd fiddled with it and something had gone wrong before then genuinely thanking me for helping him out. "Hey, no worries kiddo. You hang in there, okay?" Smiling softly as I bumped fists with him then wandered off.
Maybe this is my world. I fit in so well here and although the air was filled with sweat, gas and engine oil, I finally felt as if I could breathe. Also, I felt closer to my brother here than I did standing at that headstone of his. This was where he really felt at home, where he let go of his cool exterior and truly belonged. If I was going to remember him, then this is where he would be most alive. Guess I gotta just face it. Cars were my life. There's no going back from that.