Pounding. My heart was thundering in my chest, confirming that I am alive. I know that I am of course, but just because I am technically alive does not mean that I feel it unless I am doing something wildly exhilarating enough to get adrenaline pumping through my veins. Like just then, I was with my usual group of friends on a relatively deserted road on a balmy summer's evening. We were observing how fast we could race our motorcycles whilst sitting backwards & holding mirrors, all the while attempting to maintain a straight line track. What can I say? We're reckless daredevils that like to push every limit. Also, we're probably idiots.

The excitement, my friends around me & the roar of the engines were the last things I remembered before the (inevitable) crash. Screeching tires, bloodcurdling screams & deafening cracks as my bike going full-pelt collides directly with the passenger side of a car were now my reality. Then everything was black & quiet & numb.

∞

"He's lost too much blood to survive, should we still try to get him back?"

"Theatre, now. Chase up the blood bank, he'll need several B- transfusions."

"On it."

My sluggish mind is vaguely aware of voices & movement.

∞

"He has risen from the throes of red-tinged death!" I hear my brother announce in his favourite pompous accent.

"Shhh Calvin! Hey sweetie, how do you feel?" My mother asks. I can almost hear the tears in her voice.

"Bad," I croak as I open my eyes to stiffness, an incessant ECG, my concerned family & that hospital scent. How familiar. This place is my second home.

"Oh, do you want me to get you a nurse?" My mother yelps & bolts out of her seat.

"Aaron, I think we should talk about why you're lying here," my father states. The usual request that sets my mother off on a tirade, "Let him rest first, Evan!"

"Rest? He's had five weeks of nothing but!"

"Five weeks?!" I hear my incredulous voice wonder how I could have let five weeks' worth of riding slip through my IV-interwoven fingers.

"Yes Aaron, it's been five weeks since you killed a woman & her child."

I felt sick. My stomach reeled from within & my heart stuttered. Killed someone? What the fuck? I knew I'd been in an accident & a rough one at that, but I didn't actually think I'd killed someone. Two people. Never had my fearless endeavors ended in anything worse than fractured bones & pride. What now?

"Evan! Hon, what really happened?" My mother asked, looking pained. I launched into the abridged version of the crash & watched as my mother's body crumpled in on itself just as the car I careened into must have. My brother peered on with unmistakable contempt & barely disguised intrigue & my father, gruff & sergeant-like, stood stagnant.

Doctor Lacey walked in following my monologue with the body language of being around one's immediate family. I guess he was used to us.

"Hi Aaron. Good to see you're awake, you gave us all a scare there," he chuckled & I got the impression that the small-town doctor's skills were strained to the limit with my case.

"I have your report here, if you would like to know what your injuries entail. Which you always do," he said with a wink.

I gulped & pumped more morphine using the patient-controlled analgesia that I tend to hold more than my girlfriend's hand.

"You have suffered an intra-abdominal haematoma, numerous punctures & stab-like wounds across the body, several compound fractures to the floating ribs, greensticks to two true ribs, a transverse fracture to the left scapula, spinal disc herniation to the lumbar vertebrae, whiplash in the neck, a dislocated shoulder, sheared ligaments in the right knee & torn skin across both arms & trunk," the doctor gulped some air. "We've had to graft skin from various places on your body, but the cherry on top was your subsequent haemorrhage. You lost almost a third of your blood & had to receive emergency transfusions. Luckily, we found your exact blood type so transfusion reactions should be minimal. If you have any further queries or need assistance do not hesitate to call me or a nurse," he said, gesturing to the call button as if I hadn't familiarised myself with it already. He walked out briskly & I couldn't help but wonder why he was in such a rush to get out of here.

"Don't you think it's a miracle that they managed to find blood of your type, and so soon too!" gushed my mother. Yeah, come to think of it, that is strange. My blood type is B-, one of the rarest.

Calvin cleared his throat theatrically and stood with posture dating back to the Victorian era, "dear sibling, I have recently been bestowed the augurous task of bearing unfortunate news, I regretfully inform thy of thou mistress' subsequent cessation of thou short-lived romantic endeavor."

Wait, so if I understand his Middle English correctly, Emmy broke up with me.

"Emmy dumped me?" One requires clarification.

"Dismally so," came Calvin's dejected response. He sounds really remorseful about it. Either he cares about my emotional well-being or he's the cause of this. Even though Emmy only ever seemed to want sex from me I didn't think she'd go hunting for it in my brother's pants. Or did she? I have been in here for five weeks & won't exactly be able to perform at my optimal rate for a while. Damn slut."These hoes ain't loyal," my mind sings the chorus of Lil Wayne's & Chris Brown's hit "Loyal".

"Enough! Aaron, you murdered two people just a little over a month ago. Obviously I'm glad you're fine but there is still the matter of your prosecution. Paying off the judge won't cut it now, this isn't just you damaging property through your idiotic stunts, these are human lives you've ended."

My father is right, this was the worst possible thing that could have happened. I severed the lives of two people. A mother and her child. Most likely two-thirds of a family. Did the woman have a husband? A wife? Parents? Siblings? Other children? Friends? Did her kid have brothers and sisters? Friends? A crush on somebody? Hopes and aspirations for the future? Did they have a vacation planned for the rest of the summer? Did they lead the lives they wanted? Were they content with what they had? Were they criminals? Nobody will ever know because I slaughtered them.

"Dad, I know."

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