School continued, Sherlock and I would walk to class together only to receive judge mental looks of disdain from people. The freak and the new girl, a combination which struck fear into the hearts of our ignorant peers.
After class we often found our self's at the football field smoking, laughing and mocking at the ape like boys making fools of them self's and groping at their cookie cutter girlfriends.
When school was over I had the option of one: calling the chauffeur hired by my grandparents to take me home were ever, or two: I could walk the three kilometres home.
Most often I chose the second option. For two reasons the first being, I can from a middle class family and found it odd and uncomfortable to have a chauffeur. The second being my new found fear of cars, after the accident I had been left with sever anxiety.
Being in an car causes me have flashbacks to the night of the accident, all can think of is the lifeless bodies of my parents, bleeding, vacant eyes staring, limp, dead. The sting of the shattered glass beneath my palms as I climbed out of the car.
Usually I see sherlock climb into a sleek black Mercedes after the final bell of the school day, today was no exception.
As I walk home on this chilly spring afternoon I cold feel my cheeks and nose be not by the stinging cold air. The fridges wind pierced my layers of tights, cardigan and heavy wool coat. The ice from this morning had not melted and the crunch of slushy beneath my feet.
It reminded me of cozy winter nights nights sipping coca and watching black and white movies with my family when I was little.
As I clutched my bag closer to right the cold, I went impossibly colder and stood like a deer in headlights. A car had hit black ice. And was sliding directly at me.
As I faced my in pending death, frozen in place all I could think is "cars. The end to all of the hoope-" my thought was cut short by arms dragging me nearly four meters back.
The red Honda slammed in to the brick wall nearly hitting me, and sending a shower of glass, brick and car parts in all directions.
My heart bounded against my ribs fighting for escape and the floor seemed to drop beneath me. As I stood there in my saviors arms ducking from shrapnel all I could think of was that fate full night, as I fell to the floor I wasn't sure if it was the memory of glass digging into my palms or real glass.
Hand picked me up from under my arms and rested me against a wall. In a daze I looked at the face of my saviour. "Hi there sherlock."
"Hello molly."
"I think I'm having an anxiety attack," I whispered. "Yes you are." He nodes pulling out his phone and calling 999. Every thing turns to white noise as I look at the car a see a man in the front seat.
He was battered, a deep bruising gash across his forehead trickeled blood down his face, his eyes, stared at nothing, they were empty, dead. And in that moment he morphed from a dead stranger to my dead parents.
"Mum, dad..." I whispered, pushed off from the wall and moved toward the vehicle and looked the bodies through the shattered glass. I blink and look again, its only one man i reach through the window and take his pulse.
"He's dead." I croak. Then I see the girl in the backseat, she is uncontious. I smell gas, I take her pulse through the shattered part over her window. The engine catches fire, "Sherlock! Help me get this girl out! The cars on fire!" he hangs up the phone and rushes over, pulling on the handle only to find it broken. I find a brick near the car and break a way at the glass, sherlock pulls her small frame out of the car just before flames engulf it.
The ambulances arrived no more than a minute later.
Sherlock and i sat on the back of on of the ambulances after we gave out staements to the police. Him looking stoic and unreadable as ever, me a wreck of tears tangled, hair, and flushed face, an open book. We were a stark contrast against each other.
"you lost your parents in a car accident." He states. To exhausted to ask how he knew I just nodded, blinking away tears. "I'm sorry Molly."
With a gruff tone to my voice a whisper, "Shit happens."