Driving home from my dance lesson tonight I saw flashing lights at the intersection I was approaching and felt annoyed at the assumption of road works.
The closer I got the more clearer the situation became…lights became tow trucks, warning others to slow down to avoid the two twisted car wreckage’s sitting in the road.
Duty and curiosity combined as I slowed to survey what had happened…I approached the white car that was sitting conspicuously and incongruently right in the middle of the intersection
Pop up head lights
(Just like my sons car…)
Time seemed to slow as I wound down my window
Searching for a number plate that had seemingly been smashed off the car I caught a brief glimpse in the dark – as I passed through the intersection – of what looked like a shark shaped scratch on the bumper…
One of a kind
(Just like the one on my sons car)
My sons car
OH MY GOD
Heart racing, thoughts gone cold, panic and realisation arrived together in my throat as I looked past the wreckage and saw a young, dark haired boy sitting in pain and shock surrounded by kind hearted witnesses to the crash and in that moment I saw my son
my car threw itself into a U-turn and took me back
I wasn’t aware of anything else but my son as I got out of my car
Oh god please no, not my son!
The next 15 seconds were silently filled…
…by the sight of a number plate I didn’t recognise…
A black soft top roof..
A different car?
(Not my sons car)
NOT MY SON
A man standing on the verge, possibly drawn from his nearby house by the commotion asked me if I was okay?
“I thought it was my sons car…” was all I could say
* * *
“But it is somebody’s son”