06-09-2008: (From Kris) One thing I notice you don't write a lot of is suspense…I'm not talking about, "what happens next?" You have that. More like, "Oh, shit what happens next?"
What I was thinking was the following scenario:
Temari is driving with her boyfriend/brothers/schoolmate/what have you…as she's cruising down the road, a driver cuts her off, she's forced to swerve, and she winds up flying off the road and rolling the Lexus. Now, she's able to crawl out of the car, she's not seriously injured…but take us through the next moments for her when she realizes she has no idea about the state of the passengers—the people near and dear to her that the reader has come to care about as well…that not knowing really has the potential to hook a reader…
The idiot swerved for a squirrel. Any animal that dared tried to cross a highway, Temari felt, deserved what it got, even if the highway was a two-lane one with a double yellow line down the middle, a road that probably looked the same as a 30mph residential road, at least to a squirrel.
They'd been heading back from the video store, because none of them cared enough about movies to do the Netflix thing, even with the sperm donor's credit card, but they needed something for all of them to do on a Saturday night because they weren't allowed out, even if there was nowhere else to go.
If Temari had her way, she and Shikamaru would have stayed in her room and ignored her brothers, as her brothers tried to ignore the noises the couple would generate after a while. But they'd all gotten closer after the crap that had happened the year before, and Temari and Shikamaru coming home from college for the weekend was enough of an event that they decided to all spend some time together.
That hadn't stopped them from fighting. Kankurou had wanted some sick horror flick, not the kind that thrilled through suspense but one that disgusted through the sheer amount of mutilation and gore. Gaara, surprisingly, had picked out a comedy, but one of the stupidest, most brain-dead comedies to be shat out by Hollywood in the last year. Shikamaru yawned and handed over some subtitled foreign film that even Temari wouldn't watch unless it had been assigned in a class.
She stood there, sci-fi action in her hand, and demanded they put their choices back. They bargained for additional movies. No, she told them, they were getting one, maybe two. They weren't going to rent out half the store and barely get through one flick before they got tired or bored. Her brothers whined, Kankurou finally deeming the whole thing "bullshit" and stalking off to sulk on the hood of the car until they left.
Kankurou was in the backseat, scoffing at each of her choices. Gaara had retreated back into his headphones, scowling at the window. Shikamaru dozed in the passenger seat. Temari wished the oncoming car would dim its damn highbeams.
A tiny shadow skittered through the light on the road, and the oncoming car swerved into her lane. Temari jerked the wheel to the right without thinking, clipping the end of the guardrail, the Lexus sailing over the edge of the road and towards the ditch.
In the seemingly endless moments between the flip and the right side of the car hitting the embankment, Temari cursed herself for not pulling to the left, as if the two cars could momentarily switch lanes and right themselves after they passed.
The passenger side hit, and Temari blacked out.
The seatbelt was tight across her lap; her ribs felt bruised. Her earrings brushed the curve of her ear and Temari realized she was upside-down. Visions flashed through her mind, of violent explosions as leaking gas ignited, and she fumbled for her seat belt, smashing her thumb down hard on the release button. She fell to the ceiling, jamming her neck. Her window was open already, thank God. She had it open to feel the cool night air on her overheated face; at the time her blood was still up from the argument. She crawled out, mindful of broken glass from the smashed windshield, listening to the ticking of the engine cooling down, the creaking of metal.
Aside from a headache and the ribs, she was fine.
"Guys?" she called, expecting answering groans, creaking from the car as they climbed out their open windows.
Nothing.
Her heart pounded as she looked over the car. It was totaled, no doubt. She remembered that passenger windows only went down halfway, stories she heard about how a window halfway down could cut your head off in a wreck. There was broken glass on the ground in the back, the seat behind her where Gaara was sitting. She tried to look inside, but it was too dark. The moon was only a sliver, behind the clouds.
She started to panic, to take shuddery little breaths, moaning, "nononono" as she ran around to the other side, where the impact had crumpled the bottom of the passenger side into the top, effectively sealing those windows shut. The seam of the window was wet.
"Shikamaru!" she screamed. "Kankurou! Answer me!" Stupidly, she gripped the metal as if she could pull it apart like a curtain, to let them out. "Fuck!" she breathed. "Ohmygodohmygod!" She strained to listen for anything, for breathing or groaning. They're just knocked out, she told herself. She listened for any sound that would tell her that the gas tank was going to explode, that there was a fire. Had Shikamaru been smoking a cigarette? She couldn't remember. Temari tried to sniff for smoke but her nose was running too much. Her eyes were blurring.
None of them had said a word to each other since they left the store. She had snapped at Gaara when he asked her to get some Sour Patch Kids, snapped at him like he was her kid instead of her little brother.
Temari had paid for the two movies she picked out, the sci-fi action flick she had grabbed, and some classic comedy she found at random, on the end of an aisle and labeled the favorite of someone who worked in the store. Shikamaru hadn't argued, but she could tell by the way he put the foreign movie back that he'd really wanted to see it. She remembered now; he had read the book in some class and wanted to see the movie. He'd been talking about it for weeks now.
"Anyone! Please!" she cried. Still no response.
She had to go back in, crawl through the window and see. She stumbled back to the driver's side and threw herself to her knees, gravel jabbing into her flesh. She almost jumped back out as the metal creaked again, the weight of the car settling it further. It might crush her if she went back in. She should call for help, she knew, but she had to know first, if they were still alive. Maybe she could drag them out, if their necks weren't broken. If the car didn't collapse or burst into flames first.
She flipped her cell phone open, for light, and squeezed back through the window. Shikamaru's face was turned to her, his eyes closed, one side of his face all blood and broken glass.
That's right, he hadn't had his window open all the way, just enough to tap his ash out over the edge of the glass. She reached out, hesitant, afraid he would be cold, and pressed her trembling fingers to the side of his neck. His heartbeat was fluttering, weak.
There was a groan from the backseat. "G-gaara?" Temari called, her voice wavering.
"Unn," he replied. "What happened?"
"Some fucking fucktard swerved around a squirrel or something and fucking forced us off the road," Temari explained, her rage pouring out, making her incoherent as she sobbed. She breathed hard, trying to pull herself together. "Can you move?" she asked.
"I think so…" there was a clack and a thump as he released his harness. He reached up to brace himself on the window frame, and swore. "Window's broken. I think I cut myself."
"Try to get out, okay?" Temari said. "Wait, how's Kankurou?"
"I don't know. I can't see."
"Is he breathing?" her voice arched toward hysteria.
"I don't know!" Gaara's groaned. "Give me your light!" Temari fumbled her cell phone to him. Gaara snapped it open. Temari could see blood soaked into the fabric of the ceiling.
"Get out, use my phone and call for help," Temari ordered Gaara as she pulled herself back and went to work on Shikamaru's seatbelt.
"What about you?" Gaara asked, his fingers shaking in the backlight as he dialed.
"I have to try and get them out," Temari said, trying to pull the belt out of its clasp, Shikamaru's weight applying too much pressure for her to work against. She couldn't see it, but her nose caught the scent. Somewhere below her, a cigarette was smoldering.