Never The Same

• Jasmin Pradhan, Grade 10
• Short Story
• 2017

If you’d looked out of your window on the morning of June 2nd 2014, you’d have seen two children, both the exact image of the other, skipping down the street, hand in hand, chestnut hair glowing, brilliant blue eyes sparkling in freckled, sun-kissed faces. Their names were Tessa, and Whitney. Tessa was my sister.
The wind came out to play as we ran through the park, the grass was a carpet of softness beneath our feet. The clouds smiled down at us as they floated by and the trees were tall protectors that guarded stray kites and comforted the birds.
Tessa led me to the tallest tree. She pointed up it, a dare in her shining eyes. I accepted foolishly and climbed until I was near the topmost branches.
It happened in slow motion. A single snap. A searing scream. A sickening slam. Pain rushed agonisingly through my skull. I twisted and writhed in the air, trying to scrabble for anything to grab hold of, but failing. Branches tore mercilessly at my face and skin and the wind howled menacingly through the tree while the birds jeered and shrieked. I couldn’t breathe and I couldn’t see. The sky seemed to shrink and the clouds suddenly had horrible faces that glared hauntingly at me.
I crumpled heavily to the hard ground with a loud ‘thud.’ My body screamed with pain.
“Whitney…” She sounded so distant. So strange. Darkness crashed around me and I was gone.
Beeps. Sobs. Buzzing.
I groaned and gasped as pain shot around my whole body. Where was I? I tried to open my eyes, but they felt heavier than led. I gave up and felt myself fall away into nothingness again.
I don’t know how long I drifted in and out of consciousness, but eventually, I heard the faint sound of someone crying. I forced my eyes open and blinked furiously in the sudden, artificial light, moaning softly again. A girl was sitting next to the bed, in a thick green chair. She had beautiful chestnut hair that curled and fell around her shoulders. Her freckled covered face was ghostly white with fear and hidden in her hands. She was weeping so hard she was trembling. I shifted slightly among the thick white sheets and the girl looked up quickly, revealing concerned blue crystals. Tears streamed down her face, and she gasped with relief as she saw me, awake. There was something familiar about the girl, but in my mind, where there should have been a name or a memory, there was empty space.
“Oh Whitney!” the child gasped, taking my hand in hers. “I’m sorry! I shouldn’t have dared you, but you’re going to be okay. I’ll look after you. Mum’s just gone to get some water.” The words tumbled and fell out of her mouth and I stared at her, confused and scared.
“Who…who are you?” I whispered weakly, drawing my hand away. I had never seen anyone look so heartbroken in all my life.