My Girl

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My Girl - Chapter 1

Gabriel

The shriek of metal as it twisted, a child’s shrill scream of distress, and the sound of glass shattering as it exploded ripped through the quiet of night. Sleeping passengers were woken with a fright as the bus tipped over, and then over again, onto its roof. As the bus skidded down the road upside down, time slowed. Like he was viewing the world from underwater, Gabriel watched from his window as the barrier grew ever closer to their vehicle.

He closed his eyes, bracing for the inevitable. Regret filled him. For all the things he should have said or done. For missed opportunities. But most of all, for never having had the balls to tell the most important person in his life how he felt.

That barrier was the only thing between them and a substantial drop down a mountain cliff. There was no way they could survive a fall like that. His thoughts went to the families on the bus, the small children whose innocent lives would be over before they even began. A familiar feeling of helplessness assailed him, and he had to fight back the urge to scream out his pain and his rage against it.

Time seemed to slow, and Gabriel lost all sense of it and reality. At some point during the continually rolling over of the bus, he became trapped, his right arm and upper torso pinned between two seats. Blood trickled in his hair, over his face, and down his arm.

When the bus had first gone over, he’d been jostled about like a ragdoll. But when the metal had started twisting, clamping him in an unforgiving metal grip, he’d no longer been able to move. Excruciating pain had radiated out from his arm, quickly spreading through his body. Everything hurt. But as he hung there, a blessed numbness finally settled over him.

In his mind’s eye, however, present and past merged, becoming impossible to separate, and he could see the past like a movie playing solely for his viewing. It took him back to another time, another place. He’d been consumed by this raw anguish, powerlessness, an all-pervasive fear that had gripped him on that other night. The terror was so like the past that at some point they blurred into one, and he slipped into that nightmare.

He no longer heard the scraping of the metal as it slid across the asphalt to what surely would be their death. He never noticed the change in the road’s camber slowing the bus down in its final approach to the barrier. He was oblivious to the vehicle coming to a jarring halt against the structure as it held firm. All he could see was the traumatic events on that night long past.

An eerie hush settled over the accident scene.

But for Gabriel, there was no lack of noise. His world was overwhelmed by deafening sound. Glass shattered, wood splintered, and all hell broke loose as five armed men burst into their homestead. He watched as his father shouted at the home invaders in rage, his mother screaming in pain when they dragged her away by her hair, and his siblings huddled together, wailing out their fear. He stood, immobilised by the horror he was witnessing, unable to utter a sound.

Then he heard his father shout, Boeta, vat hulle en hardloop.” Son, take them and run, referring to his younger siblings.

But he’d been unable to. The feeling of paralysis persisted. His heart pounded in his ears, rivalling the rest of the noise. It was only when he saw his father lurch for the nearest gun that he was finally galvanised into action by an even greater fear.

“Nee, Papa. Moenie!” No, Daddy. Don’t! He screamed as he ran towards his father.

Gabriel heard a terrified scream from his parents’ bedroom a split second before a single gunshot. As if in slow motion, he saw his father sink to the ground, a startled look on the man’s face, his own unfired weapon still clutched in his hand. Gabe watched as a crimson-red patch appeared, growing at an alarming rate.

He felt a hand grip his shoulder but couldn’t turn his head to see who it was. Couldn’t run to escape certain death. The paralysis had returned.

“Mr Stone? Mr Stone? Can you hear me, sir?”

The voice was unfamiliar. Confused, he wasn’t sure how to respond.

“Mr Stone? Can you open your eyes for me? Mr Stone?”

Slowly, unbearable pain began to filter into Gabriel’s awareness. As if through a filter, he heard the racket around him, but the distinct sound of flames was now missing. Had they managed to put the blaze out? Why did he hurt so badly? Had he been shot? Where were his parents, his siblings?

“Mr Stone?”

He couldn’t hold back the groan of pain as consciousness flooded his mind.

“There he is. Can you open your eyes, Mr Stone?”

Cracking an eyelid, he stared at the unfamiliar face.

“Welcome back, Mr Stone. We were getting concerned,” the paramedic said.

“Where’s my mother? Is she okay?” Gabriel whispered, his voice hoarse.

“I’m sorry, sir. I don’t recall a Mrs Stone being listed amongst the passengers accounted for. Was your mother on the bus with you?”

“Bus? What bus?” He frowned. Nothing made sense. “Is the house still burning? I can’t hear the flames anymore.”

The EMT looked over at his partner. She nodded and wheeled the gurney closer. Removing the backboard, she placed it down beside Gabriel, and together, they moved him onto it as carefully as they could. Despite the care with which they worked, Gabriel couldn’t bite back a low moan as agony washed through him. Once the straps were secured, they lifted him up onto the gurney and wheeled him over to the ambulance.

Ready to leave, the paramedic went over to speak to a police officer while his partner hopped in with Gabriel to monitor him en route.

“We’ve got a Mr Gabriel Stone loaded, and we’re taking him to St Marks Hospital.”

The officer acknowledged him, making a note of it on his pad.

About to turn away, he stopped. “Was there perhaps a Mrs Stone on the passenger list?”

The policeman consulted a piece of paper on his clipboard. “No, no Mrs Stone. Only a Mr Gabriel Stone.”

“Thanks.”

Returning to his vehicle, the paramedic carefully negotiated through the chaos before pointing it in the direction of the hospital.

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