Death In The Wind

CHAPTER TWO - Unpreventable Death Of A Child

Something weird was going on. I didn’t know if it was some kind of scientific crap or if I was being punk’d… who the hell knew? People were dying all along the side of the road and I was losing my cool. The tears were still streaming. My hands were still shaking.

I couldn’t get out to help them. I’d already tried that, about two minutes ago.

It was a child – around four or five. He had white-blonde hair that glinted in the sun, and fierce, burning blue eyes. He was helpless and I could not drive on while I watch this child, along with his mother and maybe an aunt, hurl and shake and die on the sidewalk. I had to help. It was in me… a gut feeling. I couldn’t stop myself, even when I slammed on the brakes, did half a donut and slam into the back of a white sedan. Everyone was dying – who was going to care.

TWO MINUTES AGO

I threw the door open, almost as easily as lifting a feather because it was that burning desire to save that boy, not just because he was young and didn’t deserve this, but because it was saving somebody. I could help him!

I filled my lungs with the innocent, unpoisoned air of the cab of my ute, and closed it just as quickly as I had flung it open. I ran for the sidewalk. No, I sprinted. Yes, I sprinted with all my power across the road, unaware obviously of the cars crashing around me, the people choking and heaving.
It was hard to run very fast without air. As soon as I reached the boy, my lungs were burning, my chest begging me, on its knees, to breathe. I wanted to, more than anything. But the dying blonde boy on the ground overrode my self needs.

I grabbed him by the light blue shirt he was wearing. I could barely hear him yell in refusement, as you would if a stranger came up to you and started dragging you by your t-shirt to a random car. All I could really hear was the choking, gurgled spasms as he tried to recover. He was trying profusely to breathe in and out, ever so heavily. I wanted to scream at him to stop breathing. He couldn’t stay alive this way, gulping in lungfuls of breaths as if he’d just run a huge race. I felt like I was going to fall over, my legs were already collapsing beneath me, like useless pieces of wood. I threw my door open, and literally threw the choking boy inside, and then threw myself in afterwards with all my might, then slammed the door very loudly behind me. I was sitting awkwardly on the seat, the boy on the ground in the passenger side.

I sucked in a huge breath, the fresh air tasted like food when you’re starving, or water when you’re thirsty. It tasted so good, I sat there and inhaled the air, my head pounding.

I leaned down to haul the boy off the floor, arms still weak. I held him by the shoulders, staring into his blue eyes.

I had tears in my own eyes as I looked at his innocent, pained little face, and shook him.

‘Stop choking!’ I moaned helplessly.

And it suddenly cut off, his eyes bulging. A blood vessel popped in his left eye then, blood filling his eye, it looked scary against the pure blue of his iris.
I didn’t like the way it had cut off so suddenly. I wanted him to cough and clear his throat and then stop. But he didn’t cough. His face started to turn red, and his lips slightly blue, like he was cold. He was holding his breath. His mouth was wide open, trying to breathe in. I moved away as I realised his whole body was rigid.

Then his eyes sort of glazed over, and his whole body went limp like a fish. He fell against the back of the seat, his eyes staring into mine, a deathly stare.
‘Oh no,’ I whispered in horror, watching him to see if he woke up. I shook him again. Limp.

I couldn’t keep him there, the small child, dead in my car. The sobs were coming now, uncontrollable. I threw open the passenger door, and my head in a complete cloud of misery and confusion, kicked the dead boy out with my foot and then slammed the door shut. I coughed twice, and floored it. I had to get home. Right now.