In the Shadow of Angels: The Guardian Series 1 by Fanny Lee Savage

crash.     There was barely time for it all to register. There was only the violent force of the driver’s side making full impact. The sound of it hitting the tall, spindly pines and leafy laurel oaks. Only pain, my body twisting, jerking sideways and bones snapping. Screeching sounds of bending metal. The loud popping sounds as Emily’s head hit the glass, the glistening shards flew around her, a shattered halo, flying out and cutting my face and my arms.
    The point that sits most acutely in my memory was the quiet. It wasn’t the pain, or the gasps of air as I tried to breathe around the blood that filled my mouth. It wasn’t the small hissing sounds or metal creaking as the car settled, but the stillness, as if every creature that had witnessed, sat mute at the horror.
    My vision was blurred. Pain seared my skull, but I could still make out her face. Emily’s body mangled and twisted in the metal door. Tree limbs reached inward, catching pieces of her hair in their sticky fingers. And the blood. There was so much of it. It oozed from around her beautiful face, dripping on the soft yellow waves, flowing into her fire highlights. Her eyes were open, and her mouth formed a small circle. She looked like she was going to tell me something, something so important, something that I needed to know. I screamed for her to tell me. I begged for her to stay with me. Horrible sounds, tearing through the black night. But she left. I watched her go.
    Years later, I read that the brain is the last to die. That it takes something like five minutes before our minds finally catch up and let go of this life we struggle to hold on to. Five minutes, even after we’ve released our last breath, we still cling to it. Even if it was done by our own hands. What they failed to mention is, the person that is left behind in the silence, sees as death takes them by the hand and the lights fade.
    Maybe the angels in heaven wept. I know for sure that the devil must have smiled when death’s face appeared, his hand outstretched, reaching to take her with him. His shadow passed over her, the thick stench of sorrow and fear. I watched as Emily took death’s hand and turned away from this life. The last light faded, and she surrendered herself to him.
    In those last five minutes, did she know I screamed for her? Did she walk away and look back, and feel remorse for what she had done? I wondered too, did she walk with the devil in those moments, or did god let her in his door? I didn’t know. I never will, at least not until death comes to claim me.
    Darkness followed and silence. Stark, deafening silence. I couldn’t move. My body was twisted and broken. My hands couldn’t reach for her. Deep in the pit of my being, I could feel her absence. My sister, the other half of me, was gone.
    It remains unclear what happened after that. There were loud sounds and flashes of voices and faces. Metal was tearing, and pain was searing through my body. Dampness seeped through the back of my shirt. The stars shone, crystalline dots, glistening around the edges. The cool night air grabbed at me, forcing me to stay awake.
    I was no longer in the car but laying on the ground and could feel hard, rough hands wiping my face. Reassuring whispers comforting me. There was a charred scent, like melting metal and something else. Something, almost sweet. I had wondered if it was death that I had smelled that night. Cold fingers brushed my lips, and I choked on the metallic taste of blood in my mouth. Steel gray eyes looked at me, centering my world as calm settled, a thick blanket of warmth and peace. There was no pain anymore. I knew I was dying.
     
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    When I woke, a week had passed. My eyes fluttered open, panic taking hold. Machines beeped, becoming louder and more frantic as my heart raced. A nurse came rushing in, seeing my eyes open; she smiled and called for someone. More nurses came in checking the machines and talked in smooth, calm voices.
    The