It must have been a bad dream. I cautiously opened my eyes. Reality struck with a lightning force. I took a deep breath, and absorbed the surroundings. I heard a gentle voice speaking my name.
“Maria?” the motherly voice of the police officer echoed throughout my head. I slowly turned my head, each movement bringing me a fraction closer to the truth.
“Maria, are you ok?” the question filtered into my brain, I thought for a second.
“I think so.” I answered as gradually stood up. The room lightly spinning, but that was the least of my worries.
“Maria, do you understand, sweetheart? Your parents, they died in the crash.” the kindness, sorrow, and empathy tangled in to her speech added, ironically, an element of safety. The room spun for what felt like hours, until I eventually fell, gracefully on the conveniently positioned sofa. But the spinning didn't stop, all I could see were flashes of colour: green, blue, red. Dead. No, it couldn't be. Faith, her life had just begun, not dead. My mum, dead. My dad, dead. My Brother, dead. Faith, my darling sister, 9 weeks is too young to die. Suddenly anger rose inside of me, filling every cell in my body. "DEAD" I screamed as the reality hit me. Hard.
I felt the warm presence of the compassionate woman as she sat beside me, as she offered her company. She would never know how grateful I was for that.
I began, at first slowly, to weep. The tears overfilled my eyes, and streamed down my face. I felt a tissue pressed into my hand. I dabbed at the tears, cursing the emotion. I don’t know how long I was there for. But I was never going to stay there forever.
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