Through a Dark Lens:
The Funeral, part 1.
Written by David A. Davis
Illustrated by Ram Lama
The road that cuts through the trees drifts and banks continually, making you drowsy. You sit in the back seat of the family car as your mother and father discuss their plans to move, to start a new life. You’re not sure why they want to move. You’re not even entirely sure what they mean by a new life. You’re only 6 years old and you are fighting off sleep.
There's a moment of panic as Dad swerves. The car slams through the side rail and begins rolling. You’re terrified and dizzy. The sound of the car thudding against the ground and the tearing of metals hurt your ears. Mom and Dad scream. You scream too.
The car finally rocks to a stop upside down and against a tree. You throw up, shaken by pain. You begin to call for Mom, but she is quiet. Dad is quiet too. You’re strapped in and hanging from the seat. Your small arms can not reach the safety buckle, but you wiggle your slight frame and shimmy out from the straps. You hit the ground with a thud and crawl through what is left of the open window.
You stand up holding your arms close to your body. They hurt a lot. Your whole body hurts. You’re still sick to your stomach. You are cut and scraped. You make your way to the front of the car to see if you can help Mom and Dad.
Looking into the car, you see they are not moving. Mom seems like she is sleeping. Redness trickles from the side of her head and pools on the roof-now-floor of the car.
“Mom?” you ask.
There is no reply, only shallow breathing.
You look up towards Dad. You see that he is pinned between the car and the tree. You already know he’s dead and you begin to cry.
Fighting tears, you try opening the door to get Mom out- but the door doesn't budge. The frame was bent in the crash. You start looking around for a rock. Maybe if you can break the glass you can help her.
As you scour the area, you notice a deer that seems to be staring at you. Though the fog of trauma, you begin to realize the deer was to blame for the accident. You can’t make out much of it in the darkness, but it is there, watching. You hate the deer.
“Go away!” you scream.
You frantically continue your search for a rock in the darkness. Your left foot finally collides with something the size of your fist and you grab it. You see the deer is still staring at you.
You feel like it is laughing.