Disclaimer: I own none of the characters from CSI or the song "Just Missed
The Train" by Kelly Clarkson. I do, however, own Amy Stokes and her friends
that are mentioned in this chapter.
Notes: This is the sequel to my other story, Broken Angel. You might need to read that to be able to fully understand some of the things that happen in later chapters. This story takes place about 16 years in the future.
"So go on and sleep, darling Why don't you pretend we were just a dream? It's cool, baby It doesn't matter anyway"
I sat in the backseat of my dad's car, my forehead pressed against the window, absorbing the cold feeling of the glass. I smiled to myself as I listened to my mother's smooth alto voice singing along with my Kelly Clarkson CD. Leaning forward slightly, I watched her small hand clasped tightly in my daddy's larger one.
"Well, I'm so sorry Got to the station a little too late Such a shame Just missed the train"
As we pulled up to Brandon's house, I saw my mother anxiously looking around at the rows of cars parked around the neighborhood. "Don't worry, mom," I said, rolling my eyes. "I won't drink, or do drugs, or have sex."
Out of the side of my eye, I could see my dad smile. "It's not funny, Nick," Mom snapped, but I saw a faint smile forming on the corners of her mouth. "I'm sure you know what goes on at these parties. I just don't want anything happening to my baby."
I rolled my eyes again, but, before I could say anything, Dad came to the rescue. "Honey, she's not a baby anymore. She's a young adult, and she deserves out trust." He put his arm around Mom and winked at me. "I mean, Sara, has Amy ever done anything to lose our trust in her?"
Mom's small smile widened, revealing the adorable gap in teeth, the gap that Daddy has always loved so much. Dad once jokingly said that her gap was the reason that he fell in love with her in the first place.
"I guess you're right, Nicky," she said, giving in. "Just remember to be home by 11:30," she reminded me, the way she did after week.
"Ok," I agreed, getting out of the car.
"I love you," Mom called out. "I love you too," I called back.
As I walked toward the front door, I could hear my father back in the car. "Sara, can we turn this God-awful music off now?"
"Fine," Mom gave in. "As long as you don't put on any --." An old Garth Brooks song filled the car. "Country music."
"Amy," I heard someone call. I spun around to find my best friend Becca running up the driveway behind me.
"Becs," I called out. The two of us linked arms, giggling as we skipped up the front walk towards the door.
"Amy! Becca!" Justin and Brandon called to us as we stepped inside. The four of us headed into the den and flopped down on the couch.
"Want something to drink?" Justin asked me, shouting to be heard above the rock music that was blasting in the room. He held out a beer bottle for me.
I thought back to the warning my mother had given me in the car. "No, thanks," I said, reaching for a can of coke. "I'll just have some soda."
"It's so loud in here," Justin shouted to me. "Why don't we go somewhere a little quieter?"
I giggled and smiled flirtatiously. "Justin, if you want to make out, you can just ask me."
"Ok," he said, flirting back. "Do you wanna make out?"
"I'd love to," I whispered, leaning in and kissing him. I let myself melt into him, loving the feel of his lips on mine, of our bodies pressed together.
Finally, I broke away from him, gasping for air. I glanced down at the watch on my wrist. "Shit," I cursed. "It's already 11:20. I'm gonna be late."
"Not if I can help it," Justin said, scooping me up in his arms and carrying me out to his car. He placed me carefully in the front passenger seat. Settling himself in the driver's seat, he adjusted the mirrors, a mischievous twinkle in his eyes.
"Fasten your seat belt," he said, in a deep, dramatic voice. "It's gonna be a bumpy ride." He sped out of the driveway, narrowly missing a neighbor's mailbox.
"Justin," I squealed, "slow down." "What? You want me to go faster?" He pressed down on the accelerator and sped off down the road.
In less then five minutes, we were pulling up into my neighborhood, normally a twenty minute drive from Brandon's house.
Flashing blue and red lights brought Justin's speed down to less then twenty miles an house. "I wonder why the police are here," Justin said quietly.
As we moved closer to my house, fear gripped my heart. "Justin, the police are at my house." He slowed to a stop in front of my driveway.
I recognized Gil and Catherine Grissom's SUV parked in the driveway, between the two police cars. "Do you want me to come in?" Justin asked, putting his hand on mine.
"No," I said, swallowing past the lump of fear that had built up in my throat. "I'm sure everything's fine." I stepped out of the car, waving to Justin as he pulled out and drove back down the street.
I took a deep breath, forcing my legs to make the journey up the driveway; a journey that, while only a few seconds long, seemed like eternity now.
I pushed my house key into the lock. Turning the doorknob, I stepped inside to find Gil, Catherine, and two police officers, all seated around the coffee table in the center of the living room.
"Aunt Catherine? Uncle Gil? What's going on?" Catherine looked up, her bloodshot, red rimmed eyes only adding to the anxiety I was feeling.
"Amy," Catherine choked out, motioning for me to join her on the couch. Gil moved over, inviting me to sit between them.
"Amy," Gil began, "there was an accident." An accident. Those two dreaded words. Oh, God, no. "Your parents.they.well." He looked away, suddenly uncomfortable.
"They were hit, head on." one of the policemen said, taking over. "I'm sorry. They didn't make it."
They didn't make it. That one sentence, those four final, fateful words, hit me in the stomach like a lead fist. "They didn't make it?" A numbness was overcoming my body. I was getting lightheaded.
I stood up and began backing away from them all. "No." I whispered, shakily. "They can't be dead. They can't be!" I was suddenly shaking, and my legs felt like jello.
"Amy!" I heard Catherine call as I fell to the floor.
Notes: This is the sequel to my other story, Broken Angel. You might need to read that to be able to fully understand some of the things that happen in later chapters. This story takes place about 16 years in the future.
"So go on and sleep, darling Why don't you pretend we were just a dream? It's cool, baby It doesn't matter anyway"
I sat in the backseat of my dad's car, my forehead pressed against the window, absorbing the cold feeling of the glass. I smiled to myself as I listened to my mother's smooth alto voice singing along with my Kelly Clarkson CD. Leaning forward slightly, I watched her small hand clasped tightly in my daddy's larger one.
"Well, I'm so sorry Got to the station a little too late Such a shame Just missed the train"
As we pulled up to Brandon's house, I saw my mother anxiously looking around at the rows of cars parked around the neighborhood. "Don't worry, mom," I said, rolling my eyes. "I won't drink, or do drugs, or have sex."
Out of the side of my eye, I could see my dad smile. "It's not funny, Nick," Mom snapped, but I saw a faint smile forming on the corners of her mouth. "I'm sure you know what goes on at these parties. I just don't want anything happening to my baby."
I rolled my eyes again, but, before I could say anything, Dad came to the rescue. "Honey, she's not a baby anymore. She's a young adult, and she deserves out trust." He put his arm around Mom and winked at me. "I mean, Sara, has Amy ever done anything to lose our trust in her?"
Mom's small smile widened, revealing the adorable gap in teeth, the gap that Daddy has always loved so much. Dad once jokingly said that her gap was the reason that he fell in love with her in the first place.
"I guess you're right, Nicky," she said, giving in. "Just remember to be home by 11:30," she reminded me, the way she did after week.
"Ok," I agreed, getting out of the car.
"I love you," Mom called out. "I love you too," I called back.
As I walked toward the front door, I could hear my father back in the car. "Sara, can we turn this God-awful music off now?"
"Fine," Mom gave in. "As long as you don't put on any --." An old Garth Brooks song filled the car. "Country music."
"Amy," I heard someone call. I spun around to find my best friend Becca running up the driveway behind me.
"Becs," I called out. The two of us linked arms, giggling as we skipped up the front walk towards the door.
"Amy! Becca!" Justin and Brandon called to us as we stepped inside. The four of us headed into the den and flopped down on the couch.
"Want something to drink?" Justin asked me, shouting to be heard above the rock music that was blasting in the room. He held out a beer bottle for me.
I thought back to the warning my mother had given me in the car. "No, thanks," I said, reaching for a can of coke. "I'll just have some soda."
"It's so loud in here," Justin shouted to me. "Why don't we go somewhere a little quieter?"
I giggled and smiled flirtatiously. "Justin, if you want to make out, you can just ask me."
"Ok," he said, flirting back. "Do you wanna make out?"
"I'd love to," I whispered, leaning in and kissing him. I let myself melt into him, loving the feel of his lips on mine, of our bodies pressed together.
Finally, I broke away from him, gasping for air. I glanced down at the watch on my wrist. "Shit," I cursed. "It's already 11:20. I'm gonna be late."
"Not if I can help it," Justin said, scooping me up in his arms and carrying me out to his car. He placed me carefully in the front passenger seat. Settling himself in the driver's seat, he adjusted the mirrors, a mischievous twinkle in his eyes.
"Fasten your seat belt," he said, in a deep, dramatic voice. "It's gonna be a bumpy ride." He sped out of the driveway, narrowly missing a neighbor's mailbox.
"Justin," I squealed, "slow down." "What? You want me to go faster?" He pressed down on the accelerator and sped off down the road.
In less then five minutes, we were pulling up into my neighborhood, normally a twenty minute drive from Brandon's house.
Flashing blue and red lights brought Justin's speed down to less then twenty miles an house. "I wonder why the police are here," Justin said quietly.
As we moved closer to my house, fear gripped my heart. "Justin, the police are at my house." He slowed to a stop in front of my driveway.
I recognized Gil and Catherine Grissom's SUV parked in the driveway, between the two police cars. "Do you want me to come in?" Justin asked, putting his hand on mine.
"No," I said, swallowing past the lump of fear that had built up in my throat. "I'm sure everything's fine." I stepped out of the car, waving to Justin as he pulled out and drove back down the street.
I took a deep breath, forcing my legs to make the journey up the driveway; a journey that, while only a few seconds long, seemed like eternity now.
I pushed my house key into the lock. Turning the doorknob, I stepped inside to find Gil, Catherine, and two police officers, all seated around the coffee table in the center of the living room.
"Aunt Catherine? Uncle Gil? What's going on?" Catherine looked up, her bloodshot, red rimmed eyes only adding to the anxiety I was feeling.
"Amy," Catherine choked out, motioning for me to join her on the couch. Gil moved over, inviting me to sit between them.
"Amy," Gil began, "there was an accident." An accident. Those two dreaded words. Oh, God, no. "Your parents.they.well." He looked away, suddenly uncomfortable.
"They were hit, head on." one of the policemen said, taking over. "I'm sorry. They didn't make it."
They didn't make it. That one sentence, those four final, fateful words, hit me in the stomach like a lead fist. "They didn't make it?" A numbness was overcoming my body. I was getting lightheaded.
I stood up and began backing away from them all. "No." I whispered, shakily. "They can't be dead. They can't be!" I was suddenly shaking, and my legs felt like jello.
"Amy!" I heard Catherine call as I fell to the floor.