PROLOGUE
Drip.Drip. Drip.
The sound of raindrops hitting metal is the only sound I can focus on. In the distance, there is a faint whining, but I can’t quite make it out. It’s too far away, too faint for it to hold my focus.
The only sound that I can familiarize is rain hitting metal.
Metal?Where am I?I don’t remember anything.
Cold. I am so cold, and my fingertips are numb. My vision is blurry. I can make out the blurred yellow, red, and black view, but can’t make out any shapes that could give me a clue as to where I am.
There’s just darkness. Lots and lots of darkness.
I can’t remember what happened; my head hurts too much to think or register what is happening. What sounds like rain hitting metal continues, but I can’t decipher what it really is.
Suddenly, a faint crying sound catches my attention.
Am I crying?I don’t think so.
The cries are small, too small to be of an adult. They are child-like cries. I want to get to the source of the sound, but I can’t move. I can’t feel my body.
An unrecognizable scream rips through me, and with all the strength I can muster, I bring my hands to my face and rub my eyes with the heels of my palms. My head throbs, and my chest aches.Is someone sitting on me, or is there something heavy on me?I don’t think so. But why does my chest ache? I can’t get a deep breath, no matter how hard I try.
There is too much darkness around me, which isn’t helping anything—especially my vision.
My hands move to my chest as I try to figure out what’s restraining me, and I quickly discover it’s a seatbelt. I am being held back in my seat by a seatbelt.
That means I’m in a car.
My fuzzy mind slowly works to piece the puzzle together.
My fingertips follow the seatbelt down to the buckle and push.
Nothing.
The seatbelt isn’t loosening.
Stuck. I’m stuck.
I’m not sure why, but I scream.
That faint cry floats back to my ears. It’s a soft cry followed by a small voice. “Mommy!” The voice is screaming now. I struggle against the seatbelt, clicking the lock repeatedly to no avail. It isn’t loosening. I’ve never felt so trapped.
“Mommy!” The small voice sounds fearful now, screaming again, blending effortlessly with the ringing in my ears.
Where is the voice coming from? It’s so close, yet so far away.
My eyelids flutter. The cries continue, the small, scared voice calling out for their mommy like a mantra.
Taking slow breaths, I close my eyes, praying I can clear my fog and confusion.
The cries continue.
“Mommy!”
Some of the haze lifts, and I realize…it’s a familiar voice.
I know that voice.I’ve heard it every day for the past two and a half years.