"Rose, pleeeeaseee!" Keith's voice practically begged through the phone.

"Okay, okay, I'll be there," I sighed, hanging up.

I love Keith, he's my best friend, but I'm just not a social person. Going to a crowded bar, just to listen to their new song? Not really my scene. I'd much rather curl up with a book. But they bribed me with the newest dark romance of Ane Huan. I mean, who could resist that?

So, half an hour later, I'm standing in front of the mirror, doing my makeup and putting on the only dress I own—a light blue one with rhinestones. I hate wearing dresses. It feels wrong, like I'm pretending to be someone I'm not. But whatever, I'll suffer through it for Keith and the promise of a new book :)

It's only 8:30. The show doesn't start until 10, but I'll need the time. Biking there will take almost an hour, and driving is out of the question.

I haven't been behind the wheel of a car in ten years.

My hands tighten around the makeup brush, and I freeze for a moment, staring at my reflection. Ten years. People say I should be over it by now, that time heals everything. But how do you get over watching your mother die right in front of you?

I still hear the crash. The screeching tires, the deafening sound of metal twisting and shattering as the car slammed into us. My mom's hand on my chest, shoving me away from the dashboard just before the fire. I can still feel the heat, the smoke choking my lungs, and the unbearable weight of the seatbelt cutting into my skin as I tried to free myself. My mom had saved me, but I couldn't save her.

I remember her face, still and pale, as I screamed her name. The smell of gasoline filled the air, but all I could do was shake her, begging her to wake up, to breathe. But her eyes never opened. The sirens were in the distance, but too late. I watched her slip away before they even got there.

The nightmare plays over and over in my head. The flash of flames, the panic. Every time I close my eyes, I see her. Sometimes I wake up in a cold sweat, the sound of the ambulance still ringing in my ears. Ten years. And I still can't get back into a car. I still can't let it go.

"Rose, focus," I mutter, shaking myself out of it.

Tonight's not the night to spiral. I owe Keith this, and I won't let him down. I grab my bag, take a deep breath, and head for the door. Maybe a distraction is what I need. I just have to make it through the night without falling apart.