This is a small section of the prolouge of my novel Dream World.
I watch the cars pass by, weaving from lane to lane; one caught my eye, a blue van, weaving across each lane, causing cars to honk their horns. I could not believe the way the driver was driving. I watch it as it turns left at the end of the road and disappears from my view. This is so unlike my mother, being this late; I debate ringing home, but that meant leaving the meeting point and going back into the swimming pool’s entrance where the phone is. I decide to wait.
I begin counting red cars, a game my family often play on long journeys. After counting fifteen in a row, I am bored with the game, no fun on your own. This was beyond the joke, where was she? I stand once again; passer-by’s staring at me. I smile and continue to watch the traffic. Then I notice the same blue van. It switches lanes, again and then again. I shake my head; the driver of the car was all over the place.
I spot my mother’s car approaching me. I see her wave, and smile as our eyes lock. Then as if in slow motion, the most horrific scene plays out before my eyes. The van switches lanes once again, right into my mother’s path. The look on her face as she steps on the brakes shows on her face, but it’s too late, the car ploughs into the van at such speed she had no time to react. I watch in horror as my mother flies forward. I close my eyes, and crumble down to the floor, shielding my eyes not wanting to see the scene continue to play out. Hearing metal on metal, as screams fill the air. Its only then I realise it is me who is screaming. I remain in a heap on the floor and prise one eye open, not wanting to see. It’s as if time stands still; the sound of sirens fills the air. I open my other eye; watch people rush to the scene; I feel a hand help me up. Asking me if I am okay, if I am hurt? I shake my head, and stare at the two mangled vehicles, one of which is my mothers. This can’t be real. I’m daydreaming, aren’t I?