“Oh my god!’ she breathed. “Are-are you okay?” She glanced at me and then back at her destroyed vehicle. “How… how did you…how are you…? I was going fast. Oh no…maybe too fast… I didn't see you in time, you…”
Her words dissolved into a hysterical panic attack and she slid down onto the ground, sinking her head into her knees. I watched her frame expand and shrink again and again as she hyperventilated.
As I gazed around in a shock, a crowd gathered. People on their way to work stopped and drivers, not content with rubber necking, pulled over their cars and got out.
I saw one man pull out a phone from his pocket and make a call, presumably 999.
Everyone had the same look on their face, a combination of confusion and disbelief. They knew that I should be lying in a crumpled heap twenty feet away.
They knew I should be dead.
All I knew for certain was that I didn't want to be here.
I took a step forward, my legs feeling much more solid than they had a minute ago. The girl looked up at me, realising my intentions.
“N-n…” she wheezed and flailed out an arm to stop me. I ignored her and stumbled away from the crash in the direction of home. “Hey son, come sit down,” suggested an overweight man in jogging bottoms. “You might be hurt,” said an elderly lady with purple rinse hair. They were all closing in on me, offering their own opinions of post collision aftercare.
I saw the man with the phone weave towards me, his hand stretched out in my direction. He signalled for me to stop, all the while talking in rushed bursts to the person on the other end.
I turned and ran.
I ran as fast and as hard as I could, snaking through the gathering crowd. They called out and made weak efforts to stop me as I darted past. The strangest thing was, even though I felt confused, all of my aches had gone and my head felt crystal clear.
My bare feet slapped hard against the pavement and I pushed myself faster. All I could think about was escaping the confusion and getting home. The shop fronts whipped past, changing to houses and rows of bushes as the area became more residential. I pushed harder and the scenery became lines, blurs of colours that ran parallel to me, shifting in size and shape. Then I skidded to a stop as I recognised where I was. For the second time my mouth dropped open.
I was home.
I stared, refusing to believe my own eyes. There was no way that I could have arrived so fast. It took me fifteen minutes to drive and that was at full speed. I’d just run the distance in less than five. But no matter how many times I blinked, the red bricked semi with the white window frames and leaking drainpipe was still there.
I didn't know what to think. First waking up in the park in someone else’s clothes. Then the car wreck. Now this. It was too much. I felt like I was going insane.
I needed to see my family, see something normal.
Rushing up the driveway, I noticed that Mum and John’s car was missing. I prayed that someone was in.
As I neared the door, my strength began to fade again. The dull throb started back up and the ache swept through my body. It felt like I was wading through water.
“What is going on?” I screamed. No one answered. A dog barked from somewhere down the road.
I slapped my hand against the wall, and then used it to steady myself as I stretched up to the hidden ledge above the front door and felt around for the spare key. My fingers were shaking as I jiggled the lock open and half fell through the door.
“Hello?” I croaked. “Anyone?”
Silence.
I swiped the door closed too hard, jumping at the sound. I called out again as I shuffled to the lounge, using my hands to keep me upright as my legs dissolved into water. On the far left was the couch. It looked soft and inviting. I was confused and terrified, but nothing could have stopped me from resting on it.
I fell into it and sighed as its welcoming overstuffed cushions wrapped around me.
After a few seconds I was sound asleep.
The sound of the front door closing woke me. My eyes snapped open, alert and clear. The light from the window had been replaced by the unnatural glow of the streetlamps outside. I swung myself upright and rubbed the sleep from my eyes. A few seconds later Mikey walked into the lounge. He caught sight of me and swore loudly. “Alex is that you?” He moved over to me and peered close, like I was a caged animal. I swatted him away, not in the mood for games. “Of course it’s me idiot. Who did you think?” He drew back and raised his eyebrows. “But you look…different.”
Fear rocketed through me. What does he mean different? Has the accident done more damage than I realised? I swallowed and pointed a shaking finger towards a flamboyant mirror that sat on top of a side table.
“Pass me that” I said.
Mikey grabbed the mirror and handed it to me. I breathed in deep, expecting the worst. Then I looked and gasped. Staring back from the glass was me, but a superior version.
My spots had gone. Instead my skin was smooth and no longer anaemic white. My jaw line looked stronger and my eyes gleamed as if they had been scrubbed. Even my hair had lost its coarseness, looking more like Mikey’s now than my own.
As I opened my mouth in shock, I noticed that my teeth were whiter and less uneven than they had been before. As I prodded and poked at my face, Mikey asked a question which sent a shiver down my spine. “Alex, where the hell have you been?” I lowered the mirror to my lap and stared up at him, eyebrows knitting together. “What do you mean?” He put a hand on my shoulder and crouched down so he was level with me. “You’ve been missing for three days.” “No,” I breathed, suddenly feeling very dizzy. I shook my head. “No. That can’t be right.” He stood up again and picked up the television remote. “What day do you think it is today?”
I thought about the night before. It hurt my head to try and remember, but I managed to catch fleeting images of us all watching a film together. That had been the day that I’d confided in Gabriella. I thought about the lessons I’d had before lunch. That had been a Wednesday. Therefore today must be:
“Thursday,” I said with confidence.
Mikey shook his head, looking concerned. He flicked the television onto Satellite. The blue bar popped up below the program and my eyes went wide as I read the date.
Sunday November 18th
“No…” I whispered.
Mikey switched the television off and threw the remote onto the couch next to me, before sinking down into the adjacent chair. He was wearing tracksuit bottoms. They crinkled against the seat as he settled in.
“So where have you been?” he repeated.
I buried my head in my hands. “I don’t know.”
Mikey leaned forward, raising his voice. “What do you mean you don’t know? How in Christ’s name can you not know? Do you think this is a joke? Mum and Dad have been going out of their minds. Especially Mum, she has been acting mental. Calling up anyone she could think of who may’ve known where you were. She even called the Police. She was convinced something terrible had happened to you! Dad thinks you ran away. You didn’t even take your phone! You — argghh!” He threw up his hands in exasperation.
Tears of frustration were spilling onto my hands. I wiped them away and looked up at my half-brother. When I spoke, my voice sounded thick and throaty.
“I really don’t know Mikey. You need to listen to me. Something weird is going on.”
I told him everything I knew. About waking up in Providence Park in strange clothes, about the accident and running home way too fast. When I had finished, he folded his arms across his chest. “Bollocks.” “Mikey I’m telling you the truth. I mean look at me. How do you explain my extreme makeover?” He nodded, thinking. “Okay, prove it.” “How?” Mikey jumped up and headed for the door. “Put something on your feet and meet me outside.”