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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item.php/item_id/2074081-Back-Roads-to-Heaven
by Olivia
Rated: E · Chapter · Drama · #2074081
An auspicious birth: A terrible tragedy: A fight to survive through poverty, war, grief.

CHAPTER ONE


'Oh God. Oh God. Oh God.' Grace gasped in horror at her own blasphemy, but she couldn't seem to stop. The words just kept pouring out of their own volition, as if no others would do. 'Oh God, Oh God.' She tried to move but her hand seemed melded to the cold metal pole, fingers frozen in a Trojan grip.
Then, for a moment, there was nothing. Her mind went blank. Her heart stopped beating. It was as if the world had stopped spinning, as if everything that was normal and everyday had ceased, holding its breath in dread. But almost immediately reality returned, she could hear her heart pick up itâs beat, thud-thudding, pounding as she stared down at the horror before her.
****
Only a moment ago, the carriage had echoed to the usual chatter of the early morning travellers: To the serious murmurings of businessmen, the anticipation of shoppers and the bursts of laughter and giggles from schoolchildren as they plotted and planned and teased before the discipline of the classroom hushed them.
Only minutes ago, she had plonked down on the seat by the window with relief, smiling contentedly, having escaped the early morning chaos at home, the noisy prattle of her little brothers and the demands of her mother.
Just a short while ago the fresh morning air had greeted her. The brief cold winter had passed and suddenly, as if overnight, everything seemed new and filled with promise. It was spring in Cologne. Daffodils and tulips nodded rainbow "Hello's", waving gaily from window boxes, and early bluebells braved the roadside under budding trees. She had taken a few deep breaths as she waited for the tram, savouring the cool, fresh air, and had smiled to herself feeling exhilarated and filled with joy.
Tuning out the low babble that buzzed around her she had let her imagination fly, taking her beyond the urban street and everyday life to faraway lands where knights and ladies dwelt, where magic was possible and adventure called.
The rattle of the approaching tram had invaded her daydreams and brought her back to reality. She looked around her and then glanced along the road. Lily should have been right behind her. If her sister didn't hurry she would miss the carriage and be late for school.
The tram rattled to a halt and Grace had climbed aboard; jostled forward by the queue, and found a seat. She had watched as people filed aboard settling themselves in for the journey.
Staring through the dusty glass she had mentally urged her sister to hurry and rubbing at the window half-heartedly with the sleeve of her coat she had stared anxiously along the road, and then smiled as the small figure came into view just as the conductor pulled the bell and the tram gave a snort and a grumble ready for the off.
Grace got up and made her way along the aisle to the platform at the end of the carriage and hanging on to the pole had craned forward, arm outstretched.
'Lily, hurry,â she called. The tram had started to move but had not gained speed and she had watched keenly as her sister raced along the sidewalk, hair flying behind her, ribbons bobbing like the tails of happy kite riding the wind, satchel tugging at her neck.
Grace laughed as she cheered her sister on, knowing that Lily was probably enjoying herself, delighting in the breeze on her face, exhilarated by the speed of the run as her long legs carried her forward. Giggling merrily as she neared the tram, Lily had flung her schoolbag back and reached out her hand. Gripping the pole tightly, Grace had leaned forward, arm outstretched. Their fingers had touched briefly, as the running child lifted her leg to leap to the platform.
She missed.
Grace stared down, stunned. Everything moved in slow motion â Lily's arm dropped, her legs crumbled beneath her, she tumbled forward then somehow fell backwards, her arms flung wide as she slipped beneath the platform. The steel wheels rolled on and juddered slightly, moving carelessly over the small figure that lay across the tracks, leaving two scarlet stripes across the bodice of her frock.
Almost immediately, there was a judder as the driver slammed on the brakes and for a moment there was utter silence, quickly followed by gasps of surprise and low fearful whispers.
****
Grace slowly prised her fingers from the pole and lowered her head. She stared down at the black road, at the silver tracks and the tiny body that lay crushed beneath the wheels. Lily looked like an angel, her hair splayed out around her face like a corona, her cheeks flushed, her small red mouth still showing the hint of a smile and her huge green eyes open wide with surprise.
Grace couldn't think. Vague pictures and words rushed in and out of her mind, but she could make no sense of them. From behind her, she could hear the shocked whispers of the passengers drawing closer to her as slowly they moved along the aisle, wanting to know what had happened. She couldn't face them, didn't want to look into their faces, terrified of what she would see there when realisation dawned on them. She leapt from the tram and ran as fast as she could.
Stumbling along the edge of the road, legs shaking, body trembling she could barely see as tears filled her eyes and pushed everything out of focus. Her heart was thumping so hard she thought that the whole world must hear it.
Finally, exhausted and confused, she collapsed onto the thick, prickly grass that lined the street. She sat for a moment, her breathing heavy and uneven. Behind her was a spindly bramble hedge and without thought she clambered into it. The spiky branches pulled at her clothes and tore at her limbs but she felt nothing except the desperate need to curl into a ball and die.
A strange giggle rose in her throat. She was appalled at herself and at the sudden, terrible, overwhelming urge to laugh.
Everything seemed unreal, as if she'd fallen into another world, one where she didn't belong, one she could make no sense of. Images played through her mind, like moving pictures: Ma and Pa in the kitchen, her little brothers clambering to the table, small hands reaching out for bread and dripping, Lily clutching her new doll. She wanted to scream.
If only she could change things, take back those past few minutes. She closed her eyes and pictured a huge clock, its hands turning backwards. Surely it must be possible! She suppressed another giggle, and gasped loudly as huge tears poured down her face. 'Back, time, back,' she muttered, her small hands flailing at the air, as if by pushing she could slip out of the now and into the then. If she could just return to earlier this morning, grab the moment that had led to this and do something different, something that would prevent this disaster and put her life back to how it was a mere moment or two ago.

****
The day had begun in the usual way with no hint of the sorrow it would bring. Grace opened her eyes, pulled from her childish dreams by the sounds of the trumpet reveille playing in the square. It was a sound she had grown used to. Da was in the army, their home was on the base and the trumpeter's call to duty was a part of her life.
She relaxed again for a moment, savouring the early stillness of the new morning, before turning to watch her siblings, peaceful in sleep. She smiled tenderly at her small brothers, their faces angelic, long lashes resting on baby-smooth skin, their round cheeks rosy with sleep. Soon they would wake and fill the house with their screams and shouts as they hastened to pull on their clothes against the chill before tumbling down the stairs eager for breakfast.
Lily lay snuggled under the old blankets and coats, her arms embracing the doll she had won the day before when she had come first in the school races.
Ma sauntered in, an old dressing gown tied loosely around her waist. 'Come along, Grace. Time to get up,' she yawned. Lily opened her eyes, immediately wide awake. Leaping from beneath the covers she began jumping up and down making the bed bounce wildly and bringing a grin to Grace's face. She grabbed her new doll and cuddled it lovingly, straightening its matted hair and staring at it with pride. 'I'm going to call her Priscilla,' she announced. All through the night she had clung to it, and although it's hard, plastic limbs had prodded Grace from time to time, making her stir in her sleep and separating her from the warmth of her sister, she would not have dreamt of removing it.
Finally, breakfast over, the girls grabbed their coats and school bags and Lily reluctantly handed Priscilla over to Ma, begging her to be sure and keep her safe until she returned home. With several small brothers, too young for school, treasured items must be guarded at all times and kept safe from devilish little fingers.
'Ya,' Ma nodded, her Afrikaans accent still in play although it had been over a decade since she had left the land of her birth. 'I'll take care of Pricilla. Now come, let me tie up your hair.' She held out a thick, red plaid ribbon that would match the dress she had made for her little daughter.
'Oh, I want the yellow one, pleeese.' Lily had begged.
Ma frowned. Though poor, she took great pride in her children's appearance, making their clothes herself from whatever materials she could pick up at the local markets, but she couldn't resist that cupid-smile or those huge green eyes, and laughing she gave in and tied the ribbon carefully through the thick strawberry-blonde curls.
The sisters gathered their school things and ambled down the stairs of the lovely suburban house in which their flat was located, but halfway down Lily ran back to give Ma, and Priscilla, a final hug.
That few minutes of tenderness had made her late and cost her her life.
****
Grace held back another splutter of hysterical laughter and wiped her eyes. What should she do? Ma would kill her; she shouldn't have let this happen to Lily. She should have minded her little sister better. Lily was precious. She was pretty, brave and strong, everything that Grace was not.
Grace was aware of her own limitations. She was not very tall and as thin as a rake with fine, straight, mousy hair framing a pinched, pale face, but it didn't bother her. She adored her sister and was quite happy to walk in her shadow. And although it was all Lily with Ma, who spared little time for her eldest daughter, Grace knew that her Da loved her, seeming to understand her bookish ways and daydreaming.
Lily was Ma's pride and joy. Grace understood and accepted the fact. It was as it should be because Lily was like a little doll with her thick curls and rosy cheeks.
The clanging of the approaching ambulance bells interrupted her wandering thoughts. She peeked through the bushes and could see that the adults had shepherded the children away from the dreadful scene. They were too young to look upon such horror, and almost all would have been friends of her sister. They would soon recall that Grace had been on the tram too and might start looking for her. What could she do?
And how could she ever go home?


© Copyright 2016 Olivia (oliviakay at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item.php/item_id/2074081-Back-Roads-to-Heaven