Impact

A significantly life changing event that is based on a true story.

It wasn't the noise that woke Barty in the dead of night. His hearing aids rested on the cabinet beside his bed and all sound manifest as if he were underwater, but he did not need to hear to know that something monumental had shaken him from slumber. It was the very impact that jolted him to awareness- the shuddering, shocking blow that reverberated from the walls of his bungalow throughout his body.

Barty leapt from his bed with a vigour of urgency that belied his 87 year old decrepit body and shuffled to the bedroom door. He did not know what may await him; he had not felt such shockwaves since his army days in Nazi occupied Europe, and so gave a seconds cautionary pause before snatching up his hearing aids and hurriedly slotting them into his ears.

It would be wise, he considered, to have as many of his dwindling senses as possible about him.

Slowly now he opened the door, bracing himself for what may await him beyond. His heart raced in a dread of anticipation as he pulled the handle backwards and steeled himself for the inevitabe revelation. He could scarcely believe his eyes when he saw what awaited him.

Instead of the darkened living room that he had expected to see, his vision was obscured by bright penetrating lights that forced him to shroud his blinking, dazzled eyes with a cusping hand.

It took a moment for Barty to feel the chill of the night air and understand that the swirling clouds of dust were the product of fallen masonary that had once been his front wall. He wondered briefly if he had died in his sleep and been returned to the hell that had blighted his life and memories thereafter, but his inquiring mind soon overcame such flights of fancy with an age old resolve to discover the facts.

Gingerly, he stepped toward the lights, narrowing his focus as he did so. he realised that the scene was still practically inaudible and remembered that he had forgotten to turn his hearing aids on. He edged closer to the source of devestation and, as he twiddled with the instruments at either side of his head, the truth was revealed in vision and sound.

The rumbling of a motor engine and the dual angular protrusions of light revealed that a car had come crashing into his home and now rested where his television and favourite chair had been. Brick and mortar dust twinned with the smoke emitting from beneath the bonnet obscured the area that had once been his living room wall and window. Glass crunched underfoot and threatened to puncture his flimsy slippers as he navigated the destruction and came to the side of the vehicle. It was there that he witnessed the tragedy that would curse his remaining days on earth.

The car had four passengers inside, none of whom looked old enough to be in control of a vehicle.

'Joyriders', Barty thought as he peered through the drivers window to ascertain the well being of those inside. He immediately saw that the driver was dead. The impact of the collision had slammed the steering wheel into his chest, crushing the life from him. His head hung limply across it; his staring eyes fixed toward the shattered windscreen. Barely audible moaning could be heard from the slowly moving figures in the back seats, revealing to Barty that they, at least, were alive, but he was distracted from all other considerations when he looked to the passenger next to the dead driver.

The boy, who looked barely thirteen years old, had his head twisted unaturally against the dash board and was blinking manically as Barty met his gaze.

'Are you okay son?' Barty asked nonsensically, but, as he had hoped, gained a coherent response.

'I'm sorry. I didn't wanna do it,' he told Barty weakly; his pupils focused now as the tears began to flow. 

Barty extended a hand beyond the dead driver, toward the child to stroke his head comfortingly.

'Don't worry about that son. How are you feeling?'

The boy blinked away the naturally occuring salt water and screamed in agony as he tried to move.

'I can't move my arms. I can't move anything,' he yelled in panic, then,

'I'm gonna die aren't I?' he asked Barty, realising that he was incapable of autonomous movement.

'You're not going to die,' Barty reassured him. He silently prayed that he had not inadvertantly lied to the boy as he noticed the protruding bone at the nape of his neck where it had split the skin. Blood was running rivulets down his once white t-shirt and his battered and bruised body twitched involuntarily in the seat below.

Barty was saddened that he had witnessed enough young people transist through the last stages of life to know that the boy was not going to make it.

'I'll phone an ambulance for you son. You'll be alright,' he said unconvincingly.

The boy swallowed hard and then coughed blood onto his chin.

'Please don't go,' he begged, fresh tears pouring unimpeded.

Barty sighed desolately, pained that he must bare witness to such an horrific thing.

'I've got to get you some help son,' he tried.

The boy smiled through his tears; his eyes lighting up almost optimisticaly.

'It's too late. I can feel myself dying,' he said as he gulped down his life fluid.

'Will you tell my Mum that I love her?' the boy asked with heart wrenching grief.

Barty fought back his own tears as he looked at the dying child with unbounded pity.

'You can tell her yourself son. Let me get you an amb...' he began, but stopped short as the boy began to spasm uncontrollably; a gurgling at his throat revealing that he was choking on his own blood.

'Mum!' he yelled, his mouth turned down in terror,

'Mummy. I want my Mummy,' he gasped then, his eyes searching frantically for her.

Barty knew that whatever he said would be unheard by the boy now. His mind was shutting down all bodily fuctions and consciousness was slipping from this reality to whatever awaited those who died before their time.

Barty wept miserably as he watched the young life slip away, beyond his or anyone elses control. He gripped the boys shoulder and said, as he died,

'I'll tell her son. I'll tell your Mum you love her.'

Reviews

[miSS LEaf]

such a tragic story.. you've told it very well, i felt like i was there with Barty, i gripped my cellphone hard (i browsed internet from it) on the part the boy was going to die~
a thrilling short story overall, enjoyed~ L