1 - Calls Me Home

Just a minute ago, she gazed pensively at the beautiful afternoon scenery as it whizzed by the backseat window.

Just a minute ago, she toyed with her seatbelt, running her finger along the smooth edges of the polyester straps. For whatever reason, it soothed her.

Just a minute ago, she anticipated the switch of the streetlight from red to green.

Just a minute ago, she watched a seagull's unsuccessful attempt to lift a few bread crumbs from the sidewalk.

Just a minute ago, she enveloped her jacket around herself to avoid the chilliness that lingered in the air.

Just a minute ago, she glanced into the eyes of a mysterious looking man with tattoos reaching from the base of his cheek to the tip of his temple.

Just a minute ago, she was safe.

...But then again, a minute has 60 seconds which can turn into an eternity.

She fought to keep her breakfast in her stomach as the car gyrated in the air as if it were an orca completing its trick on cue. Her head snapped backward, slamming hard against the headrest as the four-door did somersaults. She gasped, the pain in her head made her skull pound.

The left side of the shiny blue Ford hatchback teetered on its side like a confused seesaw. She felt an unforgiving gust of wind extend its fingers to grab her, but it missed, and ever so gently, it tipped the scale.

The bonnet crashed down on the asphalt. Metal screeching against metal howled a deafening sound, resembling nails scraping along an old school chalkboard. Screaming, she shielded her eardrums from the horrid noise.

The car windows, once shielding her from Mother Nature's weather tantrums, shattered into fragments, leaving a trail of glass splinters and broken bits on the ceiling.

The roof of the car served as a barrier from the black rocks and pebbles crushed beneath her.

The airbag had slapped her in the temple, forcing her head into the window, and she thought her brain was going to burst from the throbbing headache. Her head pulsed all over, she didn't know what to cradle first, every part was in excruciating pain.

The seatbelt, she thanked God for choosing to wear, was the only piece of the wreck accomplishing its intended job, but at the moment, it was slicing into her stomach. It wasn't helping the nausea whirling and bubbling inside.

She felt like an opossum, hanging upside down, her hair tickled the shards visible and invisible below her. Reaching up, her palm pressed against the ceiling. Several glass pieces jabbed her skin and she gritted her teeth from the sharp sting. Clenching her jaw together, she pushed the eject on the seat belt buckle, and gravity overtook her straight away. Her other hand flashed out to catch her weight while her feet and knees slammed down. Her body was shaking and she couldn't stop her laboured breaths.The jagged window sat there, beckoning her, awaiting her escape. The silent call was oh so inviting.

Crawling to the barrier between herself and the front seats, she felt the stabbing pain jabbing at her side. It stung and made her pant like a dog. But the pain was bearable; it wasn't the worst she endured. Heading eagerly to the outdoors, something caught her view.

The cracked rear view mirror was caked in blood and the walls were an art gallery canvas patterned with a grand display of a crimson splatter. She investigated whom the red liquid belonged to.

Her eyes went wide in shock. "Oh my God!" she shrieked. "No! Help, somebody help!" Tears leapt to her lashes and stormed down her cheeks. As she sobbed, her chest tightened and her stomach knotted. Her hands clawed at her hairline.

Mouths hung ajar in an oval formation, the colour drained from their expressions. Their eyes possessed no twinkle, no sign that life was awaiting recovery. The corners of their mouths lined with dribbling blood, appearing vampire like.

Their tomato red foreheads and ghostly pale cheeks resembled makeup from a macabre film. Their purple tinted lips were the shade of a bruise faded, cold and uninviting. The way their bodies hung limp, unmoving, statue-like was unnerving and made her cringe.

Blinking, she shoved her tears aside to see. "Wake up! Wake up!" Her voice was raspy. "Please!" After shaking their shoulders with no response, she sank back. Her breath caught in her throat as she hugged herself, trembling. When her tears went dry, she willed for it to be one sadistic, twisted nightmare.

As anyone would in denial, she checked again, rocking their limp bodies. But in her heart, she knew there was no escape from the cruel reality of an unmerciful world. Their bodies were just empty shells of what human mind and spirit inhabited not so much as a minute ago.

Her jagged breath was smoother as she cried. "Please, somebody, anybody, help please!" Despite the putrid odour of chemicals and smell of burning rubber, something kept her from moving out of the car.

Sirens droned in her ears as she painstakingly reflected on the lives lost. They weren't the best parents but had she not suffered enough? They were the one thing she called hers. She bit her trembling lip. Why did it have to be them? Of all people in the world, it was her parents. The words in her conscious overrode the blaring noises, and she paid no attention to the fog outside the Ford.

Despite everything her parents had done, she still loved them. Crazy as it seemed, it was a feeling she couldn't just switch off no matter how hard she had tried. Many nights she had laid in bed wishing that she just couldn't give a damn because they were bad people - that she could just turn them in for the crimes they committed - but her mind could never convince her heart.

"Sweetheart!" A gruff man's voice zapped her from her trance.

She recoiled, slamming her head into the ceiling. Suppressing cuss words, she clutched it. Her eyes squeezed shut as she rubbed the bump on her head. She grimaced, the quick action tore at her aching muscles in her shoulder and her side.

"Honey?" the man said.

She ripped her glance away from the two deceased humans she called Mommy and Daddy long ago.

A black, pudgy glove extended out meeting her halfway. She stared at the glove, uncertain if placing her trust in that stranger was safe. Her head was spinning and her vision was beginning to blur. Blinking away the several black spots, she stared at the man.

"It's alright, you can come out. I'm a firefighter," he said. His voice was soft and a compassionate smile pulled at his lips.

She stood her ground though, looking at him with her eyes half wide.

He frowned. Tugging off his left glove, he showed her his hard, callused palms and tried again. "My name's Bill, everything is going to be alright."

Leaning forward, she began crawling to him like a shy dog. Eyes glued on the stranger, her peripheral watched for any jagged shards that could prick her palms. When she was within an arm's length of the firefighter, she hesitantly reached out and grasped his hand.

With a strong grip, he pulled her out into the world. Sunlight and a light breeze shoved each other for her attention like excited dogs. A shooting pain sliced into her nape when she stood so she grasped it.

Bill's eyes widened, his brown eyes staring at hers. "Don't move your neck, hon." His palms came near her cheeks and she jerked back.

"No!" Her chin retreated to her collarbone and her heart felt like it was going to explode.

"Woah, it's alright, I'm not gonna hurt you. I need you look at me and stand as straight as possible."

Tentatively, she let her head turn a back as she straightened.

When his palms rested on her cheeks, she held her breath. "Phil!" the man barked.

Jumping, her heart skipped more than just a beat. She placed her shaking hand over her pounding heart, trying to steady it. Her entire body trembled.

"Where's that stretcher!" His booming voice made her head feel like it was going to spit.

She noticed that he looked much taller as he loomed over her shorter frame. He trumped her height by at least a foot or more. She felt like a small child in front of him even though she herself was almost an adult.

As men and women raced about, she stared back at the people with their mobile phones clutched in their hands. She hated cameras with a passion. It made her feel insecure. Caving in her shoulders, she stared at his midsection with knitted eyebrows.

"Hey."

She looked up, her body was trembling but not as much as before. The world was starting to blur.

"My name's Phil." Phil, Bill, easy to remember.

She didn't respond, instead her eyes cast to his bed slat-wide hands. Her heart quickened as she swallowed the lump in her throat.

"I'm going to put this around your neck, it's simply to keep your neck aligned in case you have received any spinal injuries."

Her answer was silence, the throb in her side was jabbing her stomach, and her breathing made the pain flare.

Phil wrapped the brace around her neck, careful not to bump her.

It was tight and uncomfortable as it pressed against the underside of her chin, choking her. She felt claustrophobic as everyone was swarming around her, others raced to Phil, surrounding her. Her breathing came in rasps despite the brace's intent to open up her airways. She felt like a giraffe with her neck craned back.

"Line up the board," Bill said.

With the neck brace restraining her movement, she could not look around. Even the tickling breeze caused her to flinch. A small, inaudible whimper squeaked when unexpected hands grazed over her arms.

"It's okay, hon," Phil said. "Mark's just making sure you're in nice and secure, okay?"

"Could you please cross your wrists?" Mark asked.

Her arms straightened and her wrists crossed. She bit her lip when the straps rolled across her chest, abdomen, and thighs. The thigh band was the worst; the pesky fibre scratched her legs. The board hurt her back. It was so stiff, causing her shoulder blades to dig into the firm plastic. Biting her cheek, she suppressed complaints.

"We're going to lift you, okay?" Bill said.

With a failed nod, she blinked while he counted down. She gasped as her body left the ground, frightened of falling. Her chest hammered, her head rushed with pulsing waves, each crash was worse than the next. She couldn't help the yelp, the motion inflamed the pain inside.

Bill, Phil, and Mark led her away from the wreck, walking until the car was out of sight. The band of three led her to two waiting medics. The pair assisted as they transferred her inside the ambulance. One by one, each strap was removed and rolled, its Velcro secured to their respective sides.

She sat up, the motion made her head swirl, but all she wanted was the brace off.

Coming to squat to her eye level, Bill asked. "What's your name?"

She paused for a minute, almost thinking.

The only name her parents ever mouthed was Girl with venomous tones. She couldn't help but notice the underlying disdain when her name crossed their lips. She always felt ashamed that her parents weren't the conventional type. Everyone seemed to brag about his or her attentive parents. What could she say that would make them proud? Nothing.

Her voice was almost above a whisper; even she had a difficult time hearing herself over the commotion. "R-Robin," she said.

Song: "Calls Me Home" by Shannon LaBrie

A/N: 24 February 2015 - Began

Dedication check out Monrosey's story, The Secret. This story has won a Watty 2014 Award, so it is definitely worth your time!

Sarah was happy with her husband until he begins hurting their relationship. With no other option left, she runs in hopes that the house fire proclaims her death accidental. Fleeing across the country, she lands in Florida, a state far unlike her own, with people she can't help but love. They know she's hiding something, but what is her secret that she's so adamant from revealing? She's living a good life, until the past eventually catches up to her present. When Sarah/Talia (her alias) are in danger, will her two gained friends help her after discovering why she ran in the first place? Even if they do, will they make enough difference to keep her safe?

Hi, I hope you enjoyed reading my first chapter of Under Wings of Grace. If you think this chapter deserves a vote, please hit that star, after all, what's one more to the collection gathered in the sky? XD Thanks for stopping by and taking the time to read! All questions, comments, and critiques - especially these, please, are openly accepted! Thank you.