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Libby
Four months later
I woke up screaming. My arms and legs were wrapped in the duvet, sweat covered my body and tears were running down my face. Suddenly the lights flicked on and my Mum rushed into the room.
“Libby, sweetheart.” She said, pulling me into her arms and kissing me on the head. “Was it the same nightmare?” I nodded, shutting my eyes tight.
I’d been having nightmares two or three times a week for the past few months, it was always the same, Mia screaming and the sound of metal hitting metal as the van ploughed into us. Mia would be pleading with me to help her, but I was never able to reach her. In reality, I had never had the chance to help her, after losing consciousness in the back of the car, I woke up in the hospital three days later. I’d been placed into a medically induced coma, allowing the swelling on my brain to go down following my head hitting the car window.
It was after I woke up that I found out that my best friend of fifteen years had died, the van that hit us impacted directly onto Mia’s side of the car. She’d never stood a chance. Mitch had also died; he wasn’t wearing his seatbelt and was thrown through the windscreen. For days, I sobbed, feeling guilty that I had survived while they had died. I later found out that Mitch had a blood alcohol level of 160, twice the legal limit at the time of the accident. He’d assured me that he’d only had one drink that night, when in reality, he must have had five or six at least. Maybe more. I should never have let us get in that car with him, I should have pushed for us to get a taxi home. My best friend would still be alive if I had.
I was pulled back to the present by my Dad’s voice from my doorway, asking me if I wanted a cup of coffee. I might have been nineteen years old, but I was still my Dad’s little girl.
“What time is it?” I asked, looking around for my phone to check the time. “You need to get back to bed, you’ve got work in the morning. I don’t want to keep everyone awake.” I told him feeling guilty.
My parents had been amazing since the accident, but I could see in their faces how tired they were and how worried about me they had become.
“Nonsense.” My Dad replied, waving his arm. “It’s 5 am, got to be up in an hour anyway. I’ll go and put the kettle on.”
“Thanks, Daddy, I’ll be down in a few minutes.” I smiled weakly at him. I turned to my Mum who was looking at me, worry etched on her face.
“Libby, I really think that you should talk to someone, it's been four months and these nightmares aren’t going away, talking to someone can help you deal with things.” She said gently.
“I’ll think about it, Mum.” I lied.
“You’ve been thinking about it for months Libby, that’s your standard response when your Dad or I mention it. You can’t carry on like this.”
I gave her an irritated look, and she put her hands up as she backed out of my room. “Okay okay, just think about it, please!” She begged. “I’ll go and help your Dad in the kitchen, come down when you’re ready.”
I flopped back down on my bed, my arm coming up over my head. I knew deep down that my parents were right, the nightmares weren’t going away and something needed to change. However, the thought of sitting in a room with someone I didn’t know, going over and over what had happened, filled me with dread. I just couldn’t see how that would help me.
I made my way downstairs, stopping in the bathroom to splash some cold water on my face, my Dad was right, there was no point going back to bed, I had to be up for work in just over an hour anyway.
I had been studying English Literature at Manchester University before the accident, but had dropped out after missing so much work during my recovery. I had suffered with headaches following the head injury and found it difficult to concentrate for long periods, I’d moved back home with my parents for the time being. I wanted to finish my university course, but it just wasn’t a priority at the moment.
I had started working at the village bakery about four weeks ago, while it wasn’t something that I wanted to do forever, it got me out of the house for a few hours and took my mind off the accident and Mia. I think my parents were just grateful that I wasn’t lying in bed all day.
As I walked into the kitchen my Mum and Dad were sat at the table talking in hushed voices, they stopped when I pulled a chair out to sit down, a sure sign they were talking about me.
“Here’s your coffee sweetie.” My Dad said, sliding the mug across the table to me.
“Thanks,” I said, eyeing him warily.
“When you’re home from work later we want to discuss something with you, we’ll talk about it over dinner. Okay?” He asked, smiling at me.
I gave him a tight smile back. Great, I thought to myself, they were joining forces in the hope that I would decide to go and speak to a counsellor, just what I needed.
“I’m going to get ready for work, thanks for the coffee,” I replied, ignoring his comment and heading upstairs.
The walk to work was a short one, my parents lived in a small village in Shropshire, and everything was within walking distance of their house. They had moved to the village just before my older brother had been born. There were two years between me and Jack, he had left university last year with a degree in Finance and was currently travelling around America with some friends. He’d flown home after the accident and had stayed for a couple of weeks.
He’d never said anything to me, but I always thought that he had a soft spot for Mia, growing up she was always around our house and I saw the way he looked at her when he thought no one was looking. I’d told Mia numerous times that I thought my brother liked her, she had always brushed it off as nothing, though, saying that Jack was too nice for her, she always went for the bad boys, Mitch being no exception.
I sighed as I walked past the small village park, I’d spent hours here with Mia as a child playing on the swings, and then later as a teenager, flirting with boys and drinking cider on the roundabout. We had met on the first day at primary school, she had come bounding over to me, her long blonde pigtails bouncing around her shoulders. I’d been standing on my own in the playground, she had told me that her name was Mia and that we were going to be the very best of friends. She had been right, even at the age of four she had been outgoing and confident, the complete opposite to me, I was shy and awkward growing up. We were an unlikely pair but it worked for us, most of the time, we occasionally argued the older we got, normally over boys, specifically Mia’s boyfriends who tended to treat her badly and break her heart. We never let anyone come between us, though, our friendship was too important for that, boyfriends came and went, but we were always there for each other.
I pulled my arms tight around myself as the wind whipped my hair around my face. It might have been early April and officially spring time, but in typical British fashion, it was freezing. I hurried along the pavement, as I reached the bakery I pulled the door open and the smell of fresh bread hit my nose, making my stomach rumble. It was then that I realised I hadn’t had any breakfast in my rush to escape the kitchen and my parents.
“Morning Libby.” Said my boss Sarah, “You look freezing, come and get warm before you start work.”
