Are we there yet?

Josephine drove with determination to her parent’s house. It was a long drive but she had little choice: her husband had done it this time! He’d been driving a wedge between them for months. Finding the sickly love note in his pocket did nothing but confirm his unfaithfulness. Their marriage vows clearly meant very little these days.

An excited, 5-year-old, Annabel sat singing on the back seat. Every two minutes or so, the questions came: “How long are we going for?” “Is daddy meeting us there?” “How many minutes left?”

As the singing and questions intensified, so did Josephine’s irritable mood. Turning her back on the road, she looked at Annabel and asked her nicely to be quite: “draw Granny a pretty picture.”

Josephine screamed and tried to redirect the car as she saw the lorry veering towards them at full speed. Losing control, the car spun round. The monstrous sound was deafening as the back of the car took the lorry’s force. Then there was silence.

***

Josephine had suffered only minor injuries in the crash. But now, months later, as she watched her fragile little girl sleeping peacefully in a coma, she wished she hadn’t turned the car.

It was impossible to tell Josephine to leave Annabel’s side. She held her hand, day and night, watching for her eyes to flicker. The doctor’s had given up hope long ago, but Josephine kept praying.

“A twitch! She twitched!” Josephine whispered one morning, “come on, girly!”

Annabel, who had been breathing on her own for a few weeks, moved her hand in her mother’s. Josephine gently squeezed the tiny hand.

Eventually, after what felt like hours, the girl’s eyes were wide open, taking in her surroundings.

“Are we there yet, Mummy?” Annabel whispered hopefully to Josephine.


Word count: 295
Written for: "Daily Flash Fiction Challenge" 
Prompt: Write a story that includes the line: "Are we there yet?"