Second Nature

• Holly Egan, Grade 7, Tamborine Mountain State High School -
• Short Story
• 2018

Excellence Award in the 'Horizon of Dreams 2018' competition

The young woman held onto her steering wheel, her grip loosening every few moments, allowing the car to turn as she drove smoothly round bends. Her mind off in a completely different world altogether, as her concentration on the road decreased to a minimum, it was almost like second nature. Something you do, repetitively on different occasions, as thoughts trail away further than any car could drive.
The smell of fresh, growing nature filled the girl’s nostrils, as blades of grass gleamed with dew.
As the sun rose, its orange-pink beautiful colours mixed to make a bright, tangy orange slice. It was a wonder how, in the midst of breath-taking colours, there could be the sickliest of oranges, maybe even more appallingly hideous than a nauseating, spoiled peach.
Her curious eyes trailed back to the turn, and a rush of electrifying blue filled her vision. Her body froze, her deep blue eyes widened, and her reaction of swerving was too late. Her heart stopped for the slightest second, and an ear-splitting crash and screeching of brakes almost deafened her. She felt the weakness of her car, from below and above as it vibrated horrifically. The girl’s head suddenly jerked violently forward, onto the steering wheel with powerful force, whilst a million pieces of glass shattered around her.

Beep. Beep.
The girl submerged from the drowning sheets that were washed so fresh and crisp they could have stabbed you. It was far from comfort, hardly comparing to the marshmallow-soft quilt in her bedroom at home.
She rubbed her eyes, and felt them open, but everything was still as black as the night sky, as if she had never opened her eyes in the first place.
The girl trembled as she held out her hands to feel the loneliness of icy bars. Her eyes watered up with giant, meaningful tears, bewildered as to where she was; the beeping sound blankly continued as she gulped down a breath of fresh air. It felt like she had swallowed the cold, abandoning sound and it was now ticking off like a bomb in the pit of her stomach.
A shiver down her spine was settled as she felt the warmth and comfort of her mother’s hand, which she knew immediately, just like second nature. Through the terrifying reality of the situation, relaxation seemed to swarm around like the sweet smell of hot chocolate.
The girl’s mother’s voice filled her ears like the soft humming of a child.
“You were caught in a terrible car accident that blind-,” the words cut off in her mind, as she remembered, as vivid as a photograph, or maybe even more so. The sunset from heaven; the whiz of absorbing blue. The screech of brakes; the shattering of glass. The force of her hit to the head.
The words from then on spoken blurred away into the distance, like something you didn’t want to listen to as a child. Automatically; almost, just almost, like second nature.