Complete the short story/flash fiction, that has the following opening:
“It’s been five years, Stephan, it’s time to move on.”
The lounge is quiet on a Tuesday night and there are no more than a dozen people spread around the various tables. The room feels empty with so much space and so few people. Like my heart. I know Devin is right, my little sister knows me better than anyone, but it’s so damn hard to do. Yes, it’s been five years since Miranda and Stephanie died, but to me the pain is still sharp and fresh in my mind.
Whenever I close my eyes at night I see the car cross over the lanes and hit us head on, travelling much too fast for the road we’re on. The car spins, flips and we end up in the ditch. I know that I was unconscious for the next twenty-four hours, but my mind makes up the scene for me. The three of us, myself and Miranda in the front seat and Stephanie strapped into a car seat in the back. All of us hanging upside down, held in place by the seat belts and on the roof of the car a pool of blood starts to form as red droplets of life from all three of us meet in the middle.
Little by little the pool grows and little by little the spark of life in each of us grows dimmer.
It’s almost two hours before someone finds us and calls for an ambulance but by that time Miranda and Stephanie had bled out and I was on the verge of death. But I was saved. Saved so that I can relive that scene every time I go to sleep, every time I close my eyes. I haven’t moved on, I know that.
“I can’t move on, Devin, there is nowhere for me to move to …” I stop talking and stare at the woman who just walked by the window. Miranda? Was it Miranda? I tried standing up quickly but the table in the booth prevented me from moving and I banged my knee, Devin’s leg and almost knocked the waitress over before I got out of the booth. I manoeuvred around the tables and headed for the exit with Devin calling after me.
It couldn’t have been more than fifteen seconds between when I saw her and I ended up on the street in front of the lounge, but I didn’t see her. My sister arrived seconds after me, but she hadn’t seen Miranda so she was more concerned for my health, hell, my sanity, than she was about finding someone.
“I saw her Devin. I saw Miranda.”
Post a link to the story in the comments.