Hidden 6 yrs ago 6 yrs ago Post by sweetserenity
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October through December was, without a doubt, Brooklyn's favorite time of year.

This year, she got to spend it with her beautiful new son.

The child, aged only three months at the time, was far too young to trick or treat on Halloween. But that didn't stop her and her lovely fiancé, Sam, from dressing him up in a cute Popeye costume. Brooklyn herself threw together a Mary Poppins costume with clothes she already owned, although may or may not have snatched the bow tie for the costume from Sam's wardrobe. For the whole evening, the young family snuggled together on the couch and watched kid-friendly Halloween movies. The child sat on Sam's lap while Brooklyn rested her head on Sam's shoulder.

In November, Brooklyn's parents came to stay for a week while their house got some remodeling done. They happily babysat Louis while Brooklyn and Sam went out on some dates to get some much-needed one on one quality time together. On Wednesday night, Brooklyn went out with her best friend, Ella, and her own mother to try on wedding dresses. Brooklyn found a dress that she absolutely fell in love with and ultimately bought. To prevent Sam from seeing it before the ceremony, Ella volunteered to keep it safe at her own house. Ella had gotten married two years ago to a lawyer but was currently childless. She and Brooklyn had been friends since junior high. Ella recalled how Brooklyn and Sam would always seem to gravitate towards each other at school, and claims she mentally predicted that they would marry each other someday.

Now it was December. On the first day of that glorious month, Brooklyn played Christmas music while she and Sam decorated the tree. Meanwhile, Louis sat in his crib and gnawed on his red teether. It had been an exciting day. One time when Sam had his head turned, she held a mistletoe behind her back. "Ooohh Sam," she had cooed to get his attention. Once he faced her, she held the mistletoe up high over the both of them and eagerly went up on her tip toes to kiss him.

Today it was December 18th. "One more week until Christmas!" Brooklyn exclaimed upon waking up. Throughout the day thus far, she seemed to be in a great mood. She made sugar cookies in various holiday-themed shapes, she read Louis 'Twas the Night Before Christmas, then she watched Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer while sipping hot chocolate.

Everything was perfect.

"I'm heading out!" She announced around eight in the evening as she grabbed her purse. "Ella invited me over for some wine and Christmas karaoke. How could I refuse?" Giggling, Brooklyn located Sam and gave him a simple good-bye hug. "I love you so, so much. See you later."

With that, she left the house. It was a chilly night, being around -15°C. She quickly hopped into the car then began driving to Ella's house. It was only a ten minute drive away. If she partied with Ella for about two hours, she should be back home by 10:30, just in time for bed. She had to be awake early in the morning to meet up with a client.

Brooklyn made a right turn onto the highway. Her eyes were on the road, her hands were fastened on the wheel, her mind was focused on what she was doing.

Headlights appeared behind her, in the lane to her left.

She noticed them, but didn't pay much attention to them.

The headlights grew larger.

And larger.

And larger.

She bit her lip. That person was seriously speeding. But hey, as long as they stayed in their la-



Her vehicle began spinning in circles across the icy road. The side view mirror on Brooklyn's side had been ripped off and was now completely missing. The door behind her had been caved in, and the paint had many scratches in it. Thank God Louis wasn't in there with her.

"Fuck!" Brooklyn shrieked, immediately covering her mouth right after as if Louis was there to overhear it. What the hell just happened!? The headlights continued moving forward until they disappeared into the distance. Meanwhile, Brooklyn was struggling to regain control of the car. It was spinning in rapid circles, not obeying Brooklyn as she tried slamming the brakes or turning the wheel. It flew forward before...flipping.

It tripped over the curb with such force that sent it tumbling down the hill into a forested area. It jumped, it shook, the windshield and other windows shattered, it had Brooklyn giving a blood curling scream. She managed to reach into her purse for her phone. There was no question that she needed to call the emergency number. She turned her phone on, but before she could do anything else-

the phone flew from her hands. Right after, the car crashed into a couple large oak trees which were aligned with each other. There, the vehicle finally stopped.

The glass from the broken windows had sliced all over Brooklyn's skin, covering her in bleeding cuts. Some of them were so deep that they would require stitches.

The force of the tumbling car gave Brooklyn severe whiplash. Her neck and head were filled with an intense, almost blinding, pain.

The trauma of this experience cut deeper than any glass did. She sat in the busted car, paralyzed. Her breaths were irregular and shallow. To say she was suffering was a terrible understatement.

Slowly, her world faded to black

and soon,

her heart

stopped

beating.
Hidden 6 yrs ago 6 yrs ago Post by casper
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Life couldn't be better for Sam. The last few years had lined up perfectly for him. He'd got through school, got through college and was lucky enough to be earning money in a job he enjoyed. Most of all, he shared the life with Brooklyn. Brooklyn, his best friend in his teens. Brooklyn, who he shared that first tentative, shy kiss. Brooklyn, the woman of his dreams. And now Brooklyn, his fiancée.

Sam often thought he should have been earning more, building a career, providing, but the truth was although he didn't earn much they had enough to get by. They had a perfect little home and never had to worry about the next bill. He realised he was far luckier than many people in town. The last year had been truly wonderful. Sam would never forget that moment when Brooklyn came out of the bathroom with that little bit of plastic, her smile beaming. He was going to be a father. He was both elated and terrified at the news. He didn't realise he could love Brooklyn any more than he already did but when he looked at her and realised their child was growing inside her he felt like he was going to explode in a torrent of love. At that moment he looked at his gorgeous, beautiful girlfriend and saw Brooklyn, friend, Mom, wife.....

Other's may have thought otherwise but the only thing on Sam's mind when he heard the news of the baby was, 'I want Brooklyn to be my wife, I want to be with her forever'. Although common sense would have Sam keep his small savings in the bank he raced out the following day and bought Brooklyn the nicest engagement ring he could find in the small town jewellers, one that would suit her long delicate, slender fingers.

The following Sunday he rose early and cooked breakfast for Brooklyn. He brought the tray upstairs and laid it before her. At that moment his eyes swam with affection towards her. She looked sleepy, her long hair rested on her face. She would think him mad if he said she was the most beautiful woman on earth but it was true - she was.

He sat on the bed, and sang... rather badly,

'Brooklyn, oh Brooklyn, I love you baby
But baby, I need to know, maybe?
I wanna be with you for the rest of my life,
I'm so glad you're going to be my wife


Sam laughed and looked a little perturbed. "I'm not sure that was meant to come out like that" he said abashed before laughing and kneeling before her at the bedside.

He looked at the engagement ring on her finger and recalled that moment, her whispered 'yes' and the trying on of the ring which seemed like the culmination of all their life before it. Sam, Brooklyn and bump couldn't be happier.

Winter turned to spring and summer rolled in gently. Sam and bump were getting on famously and he doted on Brooklyn like she was made of porcelain, much to her occasional admonishment. July 16th and out popped Louis. He announced his joining of the family with a loud yell and Sam's overwhelming memory was the first words uttered by Brooklyn, "is he alright?". She was a natural mother. Sam held his son in the air and promised him that he would love him and protect him forever.

No one is ever truly prepared for parenthood but nevertheless Sam and Brooklyn settled into being Mom and Dad quite easily. Louie was a good baby. Sure, he had a good set of lungs on him and he didn't hang around when he needed a feed but he was quite a content baby. Brooklyn worked from home and Sam worked sociable hours at the library so he was home often and being a young father his colleagues cut him some slack when he yawned in the presence of visitors.

Hallowe'en came around and Brooklyn bought Louie a costume, but the biggest surprise was the hot nanny that was looking after him for the day. Sam smiled at his beautiful 'to-be'. Whilst Louie took up most of their time he still made sure he showed Brooklyn he was the woman he loved. He'd sneak up behind her and wrap his arms around her body and gently kiss the back of her neck. She fit perfectly in the crook of his body as they lounged on the couch. Most evenings were snatches of sleep with Louie needing his feeds but Sam surprised himself the way he looked at Brooklyn sometimes. He still lusted after her, she was still sexy and he wanted her in the way that you did when you loved someone. Post-Louie, Brooklyn seemed 'more' woman than ever. Not that Sam knew a whole lot about that. Brooklyn was his first and only girlfriend so his experience of other women was zero. That didn't matter because they fit together perfectly and they were the most perfect fit ever.

What excited Sam especially was Christmas. Louie's first Christmas, their first family Christmas. Sam put on a whole level of expectation onto himself with Christmas. Mom had gone a great job for him and Jen, year after year, spending money she couldn't afford to make it special but Sam was old enough to remember the years Dad was still about. Dad. The no-good, long gone bastard. Dad, who made Christmases perfect, who sang carols, carved the turkey. Dad....

Sam was occasionally ensconced in the garage. He had downloaded some instructions from the internet, bought some brand new tools, wood and paint and had his little project. He was making his own rocking horse for Sam. He knew full well that Brooklyn would mention Louie was far to small for it. He also knew that Brooklyn would love it. It was a work of progress and looked like some kind of zombie, post apocalyptic wooden horse but damn, it made Sam feel like Dad.

It wasn't long before Christmas and Brooklyn was heading out for the evening. With the new baby they'd had hardly any time together and Brooklyn had even less with her friends. She deserved some time out more than anything. Sam really liked Ella, Brooklyn's best friend. She was a lovely woman and a kind person. She was funny, yet forthright and always had Brooklyn's interests at heart. Sam was glad that they had each other.

Somewhat selfishly, Sam was glad Brooklyn was out for a few hours. He loved her dearly but really valued being alone with Louie. 'Dad and Lad' time he called it as he dreamed of all the cool stuff he would do with his boy as he grew into a man. He felt a little guilty at his thoughts and as he gave Louie his bedtime feed and settled him he realised he was already missing Brooklyn. The chance of a few hours quiet in the house allowed Sam to wrap Brooklyn's Christmas gifts and hide them but even so, once that was complete he knew he was missing her. It had only been a couple of hours and he wondered if he was becoming overly needy.

It was close to 11 p.m. and Brooklyn wasn't home yet. He wasn't overly concerned. Gosh, she needed some time out and it had been a while since she had quality time with Ella.

11.15 p.m. - Sam picked up his phone and dialled Brooklyn. He got her voicemail. He didn't know it but her voice on that voicemail would haunt him forever. "Hey hon, just checking you're okay. See you in a bit". Sam still wasn't concerned - she was probably driving home as he called.

11.45 p.m. - 'Where was she?'. It was not like Brooklyn to be this late without sending a message. He phoned her again and got her voicemail and suddenly he had an irrational fear that something was not right. He phoned Ella, who answered the phone sleepily,

"yeah"
"is Brooklyn with you still?"
"What? No Sam, no. She never came round. I thought she forgot"
"Brooklyn never forgets. She'd never bail on you. Why didn't you call me?". Sam was exasperated and irrational and knew he shouldn't have snapped at Ella.
"You guys have a fight or something Sam? You're not making much sense" replied a clearly tired and confused Ella.
"no, she was fine, happy. Really looking forward to seeing you. She's missing Ella. Missing. I'm calling the police. Don't move Ella in case she comes around"

Ella wanted to reply for Sam to stay calm, to think it through but she spoke into emptiness as Sam had hung up. She went upstairs to wake her husband because now she was worried too about her bed friend.
"She isn't here. Something's happened..."

Sam was frightened and worried. He tried to rationalise. Maybe she had a tyre out. Maybe her battery was dead. Maybe she wanted to be alone for a bit.

He phoned the police to report his fiancée missing.

"Yeah, yeah. She'll turn up. We don't treat anyone as missing until they've been gone 24 hours." Sam knew he was receiving short shrift from the police. Young woman out past midnight the week before Christmas. It was hardly unusual. He found himself getting angry with the cop and realised he was getting nowhere.

12:30 a.m. - "Mom"
"Mom, I'm sorry to wake you. Brooklyn hasn't come home. I'm worried about her. Can you come over and look after Louis. I need to go find her."

Sam paced the room and looked out of the window as the snow fell and felt terror. Like she wasn't safe. Please be safe. Please be safe babe....
Hidden 6 yrs ago Post by sweetserenity
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A falling sensation.

A dry mouth.

A blinding whiteness.

A ringing in the ears.

For Brooklyn, that was what dying felt like. Once she finally left the painful reality she had been subjected to within the past five minutes, her soul peacefully drifted away. She felt those sensations for a matter of mere moments before her eyes opened. Around her was nothing but white.

But then a man walked in.

He was tall and had a ghostly appearance- literally. His body was translucent. Dark, messy curls made up his hair and his eyes were a striking green. For clothes he wore a simple white t-shirt with blue jeans. His hands were casually stuffed in his pockets. Before Brooklyn could even open her mouth to speak, he said, "Listen, there's no easy way to say this, but you're dead." A pause. He took his hands out of his pockets and tapped his chin, amused. "..that was actually pretty easy to say."

For a moment, Brooklyn could only blink in disbelief. Was she really... dead? Then the memories of her last few moments flooded into her mind. They were overwhelming. Her screams, her cries, the loud crashes of the car. Her death was nothing short of horrendous.

A shiver went down her spine.

She really was dead.

"Where am I?" She managed to say, her voice subtly trembling with a combination of sadness and nervousness. Her eyes darted around the empty area.

The guy extended his arms to grandly motion to the space around him. "This," he began, "is Levin. It's somewhere between Heaven and Purgatory. People here are pretty damn good rather than perfect or mediocre." He stuffed his hands in his pockets again. "Welcome to Levin, Brooklyn Mae Jones."

Her jaw must have dropped, because she closed it. My life... it's over now. I'll never see Sam or Louie again. A sad lump formed in her throat as tears that threatened to spill stung at the corners of her eyes. She needed to return to her family. "I need to... I need to go..."

"Woah there," the guy intervened, holding his hands up defensively. "No need to cry. You can go up to Heaven soon. In only an earth time's year, in fact. Then you can hang out with God, Abe Lincoln, Carrie Fisher, your grandparents..."

Brooklyn swallowed down the lump and blinked back the tears. She ignored his misinterpretation of her incomplete sentence. What she was focusing on was not crying. She couldn't do that here. Not now. "...you're not God?" Was all she inquired in a soft voice.

He laughed and dropped his arms. "Nah, of course not. God's the big fella. The head honcho. He stays in heaven. I'm Dog. Dog as in, woof woof, ya know? Anyways, here in Levin we have lotsa stuff. Things like fast wifi, complimentary candies, cheap magazines, the list goes on." He grinned. "So without further ado, make yourself at home."

With that, Brooklyn turned around. In front of her was what appeared to resemble the typical waiting room. It was a large rectangular room with chairs lining the walls. In the middle was various rows of tables offering hard candies or notepads. Only a handful of other people were sitting down, most of them elderly. The young woman looked back towards the whiteness... but that was gone too, now. It was simply her and an unfamiliar waiting room.

But Brooklyn didn't want to be in a waiting room. She knew she couldn't give up this easily.

"Dog!" She exclaimed, looking up at the tile ceiling. Her voice was still subtly shaky. The other people hushed her. Biting her lip, she whispered a quick 'sorry' before leaning over an empty chair. She knocked on the wall. It sounded very dense. "Dog!" She exclaimed again, albeit quietly. "Dog!"

"Shhh!" Whispered the person closest to her. "If you want to speak to Mr. Dog, you'll have to give him a reason to want to speak to you."

A reason to speak to me?, Brooklyn thought. How on earth was she going to do that? Did she have to do something incredibly bad or incredibly good? "Okay, thank you," she whispered back. Then she straightened up, still facing the wall. Okay... if I were Dog, what would summon my attention? ...Beer, probably. Baseball caps. Burnt s'mores. Her eyes widened with realization. A campfire!

"Listen up, everybody!" Brooklyn suddenly exclaimed, turning to face the other occupants. Even she shocked herself when she did that. They slowly looked up at her one by one. Most of them looked at her with a glare, but it was a start. With all of these eyes now on her, Brooklyn faltered. She had never been the most outgoing or talkative person. It would be so easy to simply say 'nevermind' and sit back down. She bit her lip. "...We're going to have a campfire today. Now, I mean. How does that sound?"

"Dangerous," said one.

"Boring," said another.

Those responses weren't expected. "That's okay!" Was all Brooklyn could reply with. Tucking a loose lock of hair back behind her ear, she walked over to a stack of magazines (all of them had Dog on the cover) and picked them up. "This will be fun," she assured everybody. A little smile crossed her lips. Taking a couple steps backwards, she adjusted her grip on the magazines. She was ready to figure out how to start a fire.

But then she bumped into someone.

A familiar voice purred, "Now what do you think you're doing?"
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"Stay there son, stay there" Patty Hanson's voice was calm and reassuring as she spoke to Sam in a tone only mother's can. "I'm coming round. I'll be there in less than half an hour."

Patricia Hanson was a lean woman in her late forties. She worked hard, juggling service jobs around, cleaning, waitressing, bar work but now her kids were grown up she was able to ease back a little. Once quite striking, she had the eyes and lines of someone who worked the early and late shifts whilst bringing up kids more or less on her own. She gathered her coat and car keys and set off across town to see her little boy. She was terribly proud of Sam, he'd grown into a kind, considerate young man and she was delighted he'd become a father. She doted on Brooklyn and Louis as if they were her own children. She was concerned at the fear in Sam's voice. It was more than fear, it was confusion because Brooklyn wouldn't stay out late, Brooklyn would call. She could hear the worry in his voice.

Meanwhile Sam was getting more frantic in the house. He called Ella back.

"Ella, my Mom is coming over to keep an eye on Louis. I'm going to drive the route to yours then turn back. Then I'm going to look around town for her. If you see or hear anything call me. If she's upset or distressed about anything you don't need to betray a confidence but try and let me know she's safe... and that I love her"

Ella hadn't gone back to bed. She too was worried. She felt guilty too, that she should have called Sam at home. Checked where she was. She should have known something was wrong. Ella woke her husband Chad, who had a perturbed look on his face.

"I'll help" he whispered to Ella, getting dressed. His face was ashen and cold as he imagined how distraught and frightened he would be if he was in Sam's position right now as he looked at his own scared wife.

"Tell Chad thanks" said Sam as he looked out of the window to see if his mother was near. Sam and Chad weren't close friends but they got on well enough due to their wives friendship. In the years that followed Sam realised that Chad was a rock that night and true friendship grew out of total despair.

When Sam's mother arrived she hugged him and held him tight, holding that closeness for a few seconds more despite Sam's impatience. She kissed him, "she'll be okay son" she said gently as Sam went to Louis's crib and kissed the sleeping boy lightly.

"Daddy's gonna bring Mommy home" he whispered as he left the house into the cold night.

--------------

Sam drove the relatively short route to Ella's house. They lived on the outskirts of the town, where the road cut trough a short wood, built through the valley of hills that surrounded the town. It was a beautiful place to hike in summer but now the black hills and trees were coated with snow. The wipers worked furiously trying to keep the snow off and Sam struggled to see. 'Shit, I hope she's not out here' he thought as the felt the temperature visibly drop. He would never drive at this time of night in these temperatures normally but this was not a normal time.

At Ella's house he was told there was no sign of her and Chad had headed into town to look for Brooklyn's car and he'd call back. Sam turned around and drove into town, cruising the streets. He stopped at any businesses open, the few bars were shutting for the night. He asked around if anyone had seen Brooklyn. He got out and walked, accosting the few drunks and homeless people asking them if they had sighted his angel to no avail.

Sam called in at the police station and spoke to the cop who had dismissed him earlier. His very presence in the station forced the cop to take some details, Brooklyn's description, her car and so one.

"Son, it's Christmas. She may be out partying, she may be taking some time out. We see it every year. They always come back son" said the cop, feeling a little sorry for the frantic boy in front of him.

"Go home, get some rest. We'll get your wife's description out to our patrols and keep an eye out for her. You go home and wait for her to come back. If she hasn't returned by first light we'll get a search party out."

Sam was now past angry and past frantic. He was feeling defeated. He left the police station, but rather than go home he drove around the town for a few hours more before he felt he was almost asleep at the wheel.

At four a.m. he arrived home, black rings around his eyes. His mom was feeding Louis and she 'shushed' him as he entered. 'Anything?' he mouthed to his mom although he knew the answer.

--------------------

Sam didn't sleep, he didn't rest. He sat in a chair in the living room watching the hours go by. Louis had awoken and was having his breakfast feed when he saw the patrol car pull up outside.

'Oh God, oh Jesus, please God, no, no....' he thought as the stony faced patrol man walked to his door and knocked heavily.
Hidden 6 yrs ago 6 yrs ago Post by sweetserenity
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"Dog!" Brooklyn jumped and turned around.

"Hey, Lynnie. Care to tell me why you were about to start a fire?" Dog inquired as he reached out to take the magazines from her. Once in his hands, he looked down at the covers of them and chuckled. "Damn, I look good."

A faint blush painted Brooklyn's face. She had been caught, and now she was in trouble. Her gaze slowly lowered down to the ground with shame. "I wanted to summon you," she replied softly.

"By creating a safety hazard?"

She shook her head then looked back up at him. "No... well.... maybe? I wasn't going to try to burn the whole place down. I wanted to throw a fun campfire that you would want to come to."

He narrowed his eyes at her before looking over at the people behind her. They were all reading bibles or folding their heads in prayer as if they had no clue what was going on. "Interesting..." Dog mused, setting the magazines down on a table. Then he crossed his arms. "Were you going to befriend me or bribe me?"

Brooklyn blinked. "What? Neither."

"So you don't want to be friends with me?" Dog was smirking now.

"No! I mean, yes?" Brooklyn shook her head rapidly. "Whatever. Listen, I need to go back to earth."

"Impossible."

She stepped closer to him. "Dog, you don't understand... I have a fiancé, an infant, and parents to get back to. I can't stay here. I can't." She took a deep breath as her eyes began to water. "I... I need to live again. For them."

"Impossible."

"You can't keep saying it's impossible!" Brooklyn suddenly yelled in anguish. Dog's eyes widened with shock at her outburst. Even the other people in the room were looking at them now. "You don't know what it's like to have a family! You don't know what it's like to wake up and watch the sunrise! You don't know what it's like to fall asleep in the arms of the one you love! You don't know anything, so stop acting like you know everything!" Her breathing was now deep and heavy. Silent tears trickled down her cheeks which she quickly wiped away with the back of her hand. Quietly, she murmured, "...surely there's something that can be done?"

A heavy silence drowned the atmosphere. Dog stood tall with his arms still crossed. He looked down at Brooklyn, then up at the ceiling, then back to Brooklyn once more. Stillness. Soon, he finally let out a sigh and uncrossed his arms. "I suppose there's something that can be done. But don't jump into it so blindly, Lynnie. Be careful. It puts your soul on the line."

"I'll do it," Brooklyn replied quickly and with an abundance of relief. There's hope! There's finally hope...

Dog snapped his fingers.

Before she knew it, they were standing in the midst of pure emptiness again. Sheer whiteness surrounded them.

"How would you feel about becoming an angel?" He spoke sternly, his voice soft.

She was in disbelief. "A what?"

"An angel, Lynnie. Your fiancé's guardian angel."

Brooklyn's hands clenched then unclenched. She spoke, "I... I don't know, I was hoping to be resurrected, not to be an angel. That's a lot of responsibility."

"Exactly, Lynnie. But if you do the job well, you will receive exactly what you're wishing for..." In an instant, an aged contract appeared in one of his hands. In the other was a quill. If someone were observant enough, they may notice the subtle pain behind his eyes. He didn't want to give this intriguing girl up. He'd prefer to spend the next year watching her interact with the others in the waiting room, himself occasionally popping in to say hello and chat with her himself. He wanted to get to know her and to watch how her bright brown eyes shone every time she smiled. He hadn't seen it an abundance of times, but he knew her smile was contagious.

She eagerly took the contract and quill from him. It read:


To be a guardian angel from Levin is to be a loyal protector. Keep your assigned one away from sin, especially mortal sins.

Angels of Levin are powerful, but not limitless. They are armed with an enochian magic. They can fly using their wings, appear in people's dreams, touch things of a mortal nature, render humans asleep or unconscious with a touch, send ideas or temptations into any living creature's mind, and do not require sleep nor nutrition.

However, they can not request the assistance of any other angels or humans. They can not touch any living creature and be felt. When they speak, they can only be heard by other supernaturals. Angels of Levin are strong and independent.

If Brooklyn Mae Jones chooses to reveal herself to Samuel Hanson in any way, shape, or form, it will result in immediate banishment to hell.

If Brooklyn Mae Jones is unable to prevent Samuel Hanson from committing a mortal sin, it will result in immediate banishment to hell.

If Brooklyn Mae Jones goes three earthly months without breaking any of the aforementioned crimes, she will be granted resurrection.

Administered by

Accepted by ________________


The quill hovered over the paper, wavering in Brooklyn's timid grip. She looked over at Dog. "Go ahead," he urged, "Sign it if you want. Don't be afraid."

Taking a deep breath, she wrote her signature.
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Sam heard the knocks, they were slow and heavy, like a swinging hammer striking a gong. They were ominous. At the sight of the police officer walking up the drive Sam knew. He could have been reporting Brooklyn's whereabouts, that she was safe, that she was in hospital, heck that she'd got wasted and been arrested. All of them, but Sam knew.

It felt like aeons as Sam stood and walked to the door - his fate predetermined. He knew he could neither affect what had happened to his dear sweet love, nor stop himself from walking closer and closer to answer the door.

All of this took place in a few seconds and the knocks really weren't loud but for Sam it felt like a death knell, walking into hell on earth.

Sam answered the door. The police officer stood there straight before him. He was tall, older than Sam although his face wore some signs of strain. Every police officer knew delivering this message was part of the job, wearing the badge, but none of them relished it.

"Mr. Samuel Hanson sir?" he asked. Sam could only nod, his mouth slightly agape.

"Mr. Hanson, may I come in?" the officer asked gently.

Sam regained his composure a little, "It's Brooklyn isn't it. She's hurt isn't she?"

"Sir, if I can just come in..."

"Tell me, tell me..." Sam implored.

The officer breathed in, "Mr Hanson, you reported your fiancée Brooklyn Jones missing last night. We've had a report of a vehicle matching your fiancée's involved in an accident on Mistlea Road." ('oh God, that's the road to Ella's' thought Sam)

"Please, let me come in sir... they've retrieved a young woman's body from the car..."

Sam felt his knees immediately buckle and his legs begin to crumble as he felt the loss of all bodily feelings and sanity. "No, no, no!" he wailed angrily as tears streamed down his face, "No!" he cried as he instantly felt the warmth of his son on his shoulder and his paternal instinct kicked in and stopped him falling to the floor.

"Poor baby, poor baby, poor Louie" he cried as he walked around his living room. "Poor Brooklyn, poor baby. NO!!" he shouted in despair. He gently placed Louis on his playmat, no matter how messed up this moment was his first instinct was to place his baby, their baby in a place of safety.

He sat on the couch his head between his hands as the tears fell, snot dripping from his nose as whelps of sadness poured from him. He didn't look up but he could sense his mother in the room. What did surprise him was a masculine hand on his shoulder as the police officer showed stoic compassion, silent but reassuring. Sam until the previous night had never interacted with the police but that moment of tenderness challenged all his views he had about the men and women in uniform.

"It might not be her," he heard his mother whisper, rather stupidly in retrospect.

"OF COURSE IT'S FUCKING HER!" he shouted in fury with the kind of temper one can only unleash on those they love dearly.

"I'm sorry Mom, I'm sorry, I shouldn't..." he said as he walked over and hugged her, crying into her shoulder, "I'm sorry... LYNNIE, LYNNIE, LYNNIE!"

Sam strode off in a circle and punched in fury the door to the kitchen, then struck his head, pulled his hair before falling onto the floor. He crawled, whimpering over to the Louis, the babe looking on bemused. Sam, crawled close to Louis and cuddled him, crying and whimpering.

His life was over.
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The moment her full signature had been signed, her soul's body slowly began to fade away from the emptiness. She was being transferred back to the earthly world, something not many people were lucky enough to do. "Break a leg, Lynnie," Dog spoke, stepping back and saluting her. Brooklyn didn't have time to tell him 'that's not my name'. All she could do was give him a hopeful smile before her world became dark.

When her eyes opened again only moments later, she was met with a familiar sight.

Her living room.

Nearby was the love of her life (and post-life), yelling at his mother, "Of course it's fucking her!" There was no question in Brooklyn's mind that he was talking about her. Her body must have been found. But how long did it take? Who found it? Hell, what day was it? She had many questions, but the nearby sound of her son cooing temporarily drew her away from them.

Sweet, sweet Louie was sitting on his play mat, currently oblivious to the fact that his mother had passed away. Brooklyn strolled over to him and crouched by his side as he grabbed his red teether and began gnawing on it. Giggling to herself, Brooklyn gently ran the back of her hand over her son's cheek. When she could still feel his warmth, she almost cried right then and there. But knowing he could feel nothing was disheartening. As her eyes filled with a loving sorrow, she kissed the top of his head.

In this state, her body was unseeable to everyone but her. She saw herself with a slightly glowing body. On her back was a weightless set of white wings, which she had yet to teach herself how to use.

Sam soon walked over and wrapped his arms around Louie. He was sobbing heavily, more so than Brooklyn had ever seen before. Her heart filled with empathy. "Shhh," she soothed, despite knowing he couldn't hear her. She scooted over to him and wrapped her arms around him comfortingly.
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"It's alright baby, it's alright," said Sam as he hugged Louis on the floor of his living room. He wrapped his arms around the boy and tried to envelop him with all the love in the world. He wanted to protect him, keep him safe as he cried. Louis gurgled and his eyes flickered as though he knew something the rest of the room didn't. Like all babies, and most pets to be honest they had a sense when things were not right and although they couldn't convey it verbally they knew what was going on.

"Mr. Hanson, sir?" the police officer said breaking Sam's thoughts. "We'd like you to come to the hospital with us please. We will need someone to identify the body."

"You can't be serious! Look at him!" interjected Patty, "he's not in any condition to do this."

"Madam, it really is for the best to do this as soon as possible. It won't get easier for him." replied the officer gently. "Can you look after the baby for a while?"

Patty nodded her head as the officer continued, "Sam, I need you to acknowledge that you understand what I am asking you. We are going to the hospital to identify the body. All you need to do is nod your head if it is Miss Jones. That will be enough. It will be the hardest thing you will ever need to do but it will be quick."

"I also need you to understand that we may need to ask you to come to the station and answer some questions. We know you called late last night and came in again later. We'll need you to do your best to tell us as much as possible. How Miss Jones was feeling, what time she left. We may ask you about your relationship with her and your movements last night. I know you told us you were looking for her last night. We'll need to know where and when you went places. Do you understand what I've just said to you?"

Sam could hear the words but not truly take them in. He nodded his head, feeling distraught and confused.

"Can't you wait a while?" implored Patty, "He doesn't know what's going on."

"Come on Sam," said the officer leading him towards the door.

"Louis, he needs changing, and he needs his breakfast and..." said Sam distractedly.

"It's okay son, I'll be here." said Patty, her own heart breaking to see her boy so desolate.

Sam felt abstract from the whole world, like he was out of his body looking down on this terrible event as though it wasn't him. The whole immediate stress of the news had led him to disassociate from what was going on. His soul was lost, his body just flesh and blood. The safest place was not to be here. To come back was to feel all the pain in the world.

He somehow found his sneakers and jacket and kissed Louis before leaving the house. At the door he felt himself come back to the present and the horror of what had happened to him came back to the forefront of his mind. 'Brooklyn' he thought as he imagined her face, her smile, her laugh. His heart ripped open again, like strong hands were physically tearing at the muscle and pulling it open. He had a memory of his fingers interlocked with Brooklyn as they walked by the river bank on a warm sunny day, the sunlight reflecting on her face. He felt her fingers gently slipping away, softly moving away before disappearing into nothingness......

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At Ella's and Chad's house the two soulmates sat at the kitchen table crying and holding each other.

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By the freezing roadside on a cold morning a recovery truck was on standby, the ambulance had left some time ago. Police officers and forensic teams were analysing the area. Snow covered everything but deep in the steep ditch was the ugly scar of the motor vehicle smashed and mangled against the tree. It was as though there Mother Nature had fought back against the disturbance to it's peace. A hulk of twisted metal. Human wreckage. Emotional wreckage.

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On a cold metal gurney lies a young woman. She is at peace, resting. Her eyes closed. She looks virginal, laid straight, her body covered in a white blanket up to her neck. Her face, pale and cold is marked by sharp lines, red and brown in contrast to her face. Her long brown hair has fallen around her. A young man, exhausted, distraught, black circles around his eyes nods once and turns to cry into the taller man beside him. His tears staining the uniform as the man leads him away.

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An interview room. "Yes," "uh-huh," a shake of the head. Patience, frustration.

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This isn't happening. I love you, iloveyou,iloveyou,iloveyouloveloveloveyou. Why? Nononono. Baby, why?why?why?

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A tired and emotional Chad walks into the police station.

"You're interviewing my client Mr. Sam Hanson. You will stop the interview right now and then we'll start again with his counsel present."

Chad is professional, yet fraught.

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Chad and Sam hug as Sam, bewildered, wonders what the hell has happened in the last twenty-four hours. He holds Chad and wishes Brooklyn was with him. 'Why isn't she here?' 'I need you.' 'Where are you?' Sam sees Brooklyn as she was before Louis, when they spent lazy Sunday mornings in bed kissing his chest as she giggled at the goofy joke they just shared. He watches Brooklyn soothing Louis when he's cranky. Sam call's him 'Mommy's Boy'. 'He's not a Mommy's Boy anymore! thinks Sam as he wails. 'Why has she gone? Why has she done this to us? Sam is angry and his fists clench. A washing over of guilt as he feels ashamed that he is thinking only of himself and he imagines the pain his beloved must have been in. That empathy, of Brooklyn in pain punches him so hard it feels like a demolition ball has smashed into his chest. The idea that Brooklyn suffered rips his heart open even more. 'I hate this and I want to fucking die so I can be with her'

Chad soothes Sam a little, "we're going to have to do this Sam, and I'll help you."

Right now Sam couldn't care less. He just wants to be with Brooklyn....
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Brooklyn remained on the floor as Sam got up to go to the police station. She knew she should go with him in case he tried to commit a mortal sin... but for some reason, she felt as if she should stay home for the time being. She didn't want to see the harsh condition of her lifeless body.

Ms. Hanson located Louie's diaper bag and quickly changed him. Then she washed her hands before scooping him up in her arms. "I know you're not feeling much right now, but it will hit you like a truck when you're older," she spoke empathetically. Looking toward the doorway, she added, "It's already hit your daddy with the weight of a million trucks."

She carried the baby over to a framed photo on the wall. It was from the times before Louie was conceived. Both Sam and Brooklyn were facing the camera, with Brooklyn standing in front of Sam. His hands were wrapped around her waist. He looked down at her with a wide grin as his girlfriend laughed. The photographer had taken this before snapping a serious photo in the same position. Afterwards, they all agreed this version was much better than the stiff serious one.

"Your mother was a good woman," Mrs. Hanson spoke after a period of silence. She pointed to Brooklyn on the portrait as if Louie couldn't identify which one was which. Cooing, Louie reached out towards her with his hand wide open. His grandma carefully lowered the baby's hand. "No, no, don't touch it, sweetheart. Just look. Remember her face. Don't let her become an unimportant person in your life. She's the one who gifted the world with you."

Brooklyn watched this with a sad smile. More than anything, she wanted to make herself visible and reunite with them. She may be dead, but she didn't feel dead. How could one feel as if they're gone when they're still there?

Mrs. Hanson strolled away from the portrait to set the child down in his crib. Then she walked over to the kitchen. As she took out the milk formula and a container of soft baby food, she hummed a tune to herself. "It's only a matter of time before you move onto solid foods, isn't it?" She spoke aloud, glancing over at Louie. He had no response. Instead he laid on his back as he played with a purple rattle. Chucking to herself, she walked over to him and scooped him up. She proceeded to take him to the couch to feed him.

Brooklyn stood up and walked over to the door. With nothing else to do as long as Sam wasn't around, may as well start learning how to fly. She reached out for the doorknob, but then hesitated.

She pulled her hand back.

Then she stepped through the door.
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Three hours. Three hours the police went over his story. Sam co-operated throughout although he was barely there. They talked about Brooklyn as though she wasn't there, as though she was gone. That wasn't true, he waved goodbye to her just yesterday evening.

His eyeballs rolled as he closed his eyes. He remembered how she smelt, his nostrils flared imperceptibly at the scent of her perfume with it's hints of cucumber, reminding him of cut grass with a floral headiness. He couldn't remember the scent, it was Brooklyn. When she left the house she smelt clean, he could smell the coconut soap she used, the way her hair smelt. It was pronounced because most of the time they both, and their house smelt like soiled diapers, baby sick and medicated cream. Baby formula sick - there was nothing like it...

"Mr. Hanson, [I]Sir![/]"

The voice broke Sam's reverie and he remembered where he was. Back in the interview room going over again and again about his and Brooklyn's last moments. A tired Chad, from time to time pointed out to the officer interviewing them that the information had previously been provided freely and that this constituted harassment. At the time Sam just answered when he was aware. All he could think of was turning his head and looking down the aisle to see his angel dressed in white. Seeing her sparkling eyes and beautiful smile. 'I do' and a sweet lingering kiss then dancing together wrapped in their own world as friends and family look on. A tottering Louis joining Mom and Dad on the dance floor as they laugh and welcome the little man in. He placed his head in his hands and wailed as he recalled that image of his beautiful fiancée laid on that cold metal slab. The white dress he wished he had never seen her in...

"One more time. From the time Miss. Jones left your house to the time you first contacted us. Did you leave the house?"

"No." whimpered Sam

"Was it normal for Brooklyn to leave it so long without contacting you?"

"No. It wasn't."

"So you left it late before contacting the police?"

"What the fuck!" raged Sam, the tiredness kicking in and suddenly becoming animated. Chad's hand firmly gripped Sam's arm to keep him in his chair. "It was you who told me not to worry when I called. It was you who said she'll turn up. You wouldn't even go out and fucking look for her whilst she was dead. Dead in a fucking ditch." Sam sat again and began to sob. "She's dead..." he said as he wailed.

The cop interviewing stood and paced around the room. It had been a truly awful day for him too. Although the crash was probably an accident it was part of the job to interview those hurt most. He'd heard of killer's caught in those first few hours following a death because they couldn't cope with the stress of the interview, the horror of what they had done. It was a horrible fact that murders were committed usually by a known friend or family member. They had to ascertain whether he knew anything. Still, he was at his front door this morning and he had gone through the process with Sam a few times now. This boy knew nothing and was no killer. It broke his heart to have to go through this.

It was still early afternoon when Sam was released from the station although time had ceased to seem relevant. He walked out, lost and bewildered.

"I'll drive you home," said Chad softly as he opened the door for Sam. Sam turned and looked at the lawyer who'd just given him so much.

"Ella? Why didn't she call? Why didn't she check? Why didn't she call me? We could have found her, we could have saved her. She was laid in that cold, all alone and none of the people who loved her were there for her. Why didn't she call!"

Sam was desperate. Brooklyn could have been saved if just one of them had phoned or texted. At that moment he felt he could never forgive himself or Ella for not checking that poor Brooklyn wasn't safe.

"Take me there."

"What?" replied Chad incredulously.

"Take me there. Where she died. I have to see the place."

"No, that's really not a good idea Sam. Leave it be for now Sam. You need some rest my friend," replied Chad sympathetically.

"Take me there. I have to see. I have to be where she was. I have to go."

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Half an hour later a young man was on his knees by the side of the road. The slush of the previous day's snow soaking his legs. He was staring ahead at a splintered tree down hill. All sharp exposed edges, warped and jagged. The area was wrapped in police tape like some kind of twisted Christmas gift. There was no sign of the vehicle that was here overnight having been removed for further investigation. Sam fell, prostrated into the snow lost for answers to questions he couldn't even formulate.
Hidden 6 yrs ago Post by sweetserenity
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Brooklyn stood on the grass, stretching out her white wings. How hard could this be? She closed her eyes and took a deep breath to prepare for her flight. Jump, flap, and then soar were the three easy steps to doing this. Brooklyn opened her eyes and crouched slightly before jumping up into the air. Fly, fly, fly! she thought as she flapped her wings a couple times.

But then she plummeted back onto the ground.

Quickly, she stood back up and tried again. All to no avail.

"Perhaps I need to be higher..?" she wondered aloud, looking around for any heights. Jumping off the roof scared her, the city dumpsters were disgusting, and jumping off of a fire hydrant would be plain weird (not to mention uncomfortable). Frowning, she walked down the street to try to find something else. Something moderately tall and fairly flat, preferably.

Her interest peaked as she approached a certain parked car on the side of the street. It was a Ford Flex, so it had the perfect height and the perfect roof. Instinctively, she looked around to make sure no one was watching. When a couple people were approaching down the sidewalk, she hesitated. Calm down, I need to calm down. Nobody can see me.

But then she saw something that caught her eye.

Or rather, someone.

It was a fellow angel, walking behind one of the pedestrians. His hands were shoved in his back pockets as he looked around admiringly at the winter scenery. An unexpected perk of being a guardian angel was being immune to temperature conditions such as the current one. Brooklyn could tell he was an angel because he had the same glow she did, along with the same wings.

His gaze landed on her and their eyes met. Brooklyn was expecting him to remain silent and pass by, but he surprised her by asking, "How did you die?"

What a straightforward question, she thought. She bit her lip. "...A car accident. You?"

"Heart failure." The people he had been following walked off without him as he stopped by Brooklyn. His curly blond hair shone like strands of gold in his angelic state, Brooklyn noticed. It reminded her of Sam's contrasting hair: dark and chocolatey. God, she missed him.

"Teaching yourself how to fly, huh?" The guy asked, looking between Brooklyn and the car.

Blushing lightly, she nodded. "Yeah... I've only been an angel for about an hour. I haven't tested my new abilities yet."

"Ohhh, interesting. I've been an angel for a couple months now," the blond replied, "I'm Sawyer, by the way."

"Brooklyn."

"Allow me to help you, Brooklyn," Sawyer spoke, gesturing for her to follow him. She did as she was told and followed him down the street. They went back down the way she had came until they reached a park. "Stand up on the bench."

Once again, she did as she was told and stepped up onto the bench. She felt embarrassed for not thinking of this route earlier. To think she had been considering jumping off of a car...

Sawyer instructed, "Stretch your wings."

"Like this?" She stuck out her wings.

"Angle them outwards more. Face the long way of the bench, not straight ahead. You'll need some space for a little running start."



A couple hours passed. Brooklyn had managed to learn how to keep herself in the air at a hovering height, but going any higher frightened her. She and Sawyer decided to meet up again the next day to work through that fear. Exhausted, she was relieved to finally go back home. She walked through the door and looked around to see if Sam was home.
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Eventually Sam returned to his feet. Chad wanted to drive him to his home so he and Ella could take care of him. He was soaked through, looking past things and into the distance, lost in his thoughts of the last twenty-four hours. A light rain had begun to fall and only the swish and light scrape of the windscreen wipers broke the silence.

"Take me home," said Sam quietly. "I want to be with Louis." he said, his voice empty of feeling.

Chad turned the car around and drove slowly back to Brooklyn and Sam's house. A pained expression past Chad's face as he thought, 'just Sam's house now'. He felt how much he wanted to be home with Ella too, his dear wife was heartbroken also and then he felt guilt, like he was abandoning Sam.

At Sam's home Chad said, "call us if you need us, for anything," before adding, "I'm so sorry Sam, I truly am."

Sam could do nothing but nod. He understood but he was wrapped in his own disbelief. He couldn't process the fact that beautiful, funny, amazing Brooklyn was gone. The mother of their baby was gone. He looked up to the sky and thought about cursing God Himself and flashes of disdain crossed his mind as he thought that no god would take away Brooklyn. He put his key in the door and breathed in.

He entered the living room and saw Louis playing happily with his toys on his play mat. Sam's mom smiled. She looked exhausted and drained. Sam sat by his mother and put his arms around her, "Thank you Mom, thank you."

And Sam genuinely meant it. For a few moments he felt the love of his Mom, the love of Louis, the warmth and friendship of Chad and even the cop who whilst doing his job helped him through the morning. He felt love, as though a ray of sunshine was trying to pierce the gloom of a darkened sky. It was the first chink in the day that perhaps, one day there would be hope.

Sam picked up Louis and set him on his knee, "Hiya Champ," he said quietly as the boy returned a smile. Sam looked around the room and was pained by the things he saw, Brooklyn's things. Her presence was everywhere. The pieces she had drawn and put up, the magazine she had been reading, the notepad she jotted 'inspirations' down on to. Sam wished that she was the most untidy person in the world because all of her things would be scattered around. She'd be with him all the time.

Patty broke the silence. "Son, you're not going to want to eat but I know you haven't and you need to. You also need to sleep. I'll be here for as long as you need me. I won't let you go Sam. Now hear this, Brooklyn was a wonderful woman who loved you two like crazy. You may never truly get over her but this pain will change. You're in shock, it'll get worse before it gets better but you'll survive. You'll be a great father and my grandson will know his parents always loved him. Now, I'm going to make you a drink and a sandwich, try and eat it but don't worry if you can't. The sun will rise tomorrow."

Both Sam and Patty had lost all concept of time. It was actually only late afternoon but their night and day of hell had disorientated them both. As Patty went to the kitchen Sam walked with Louis to his room.

Inside the boy's bedroom Sam looked around. They'd both decorated this room, the nursery but what made it special were the paintings on the walls. They were all illustrations from Brooklyn's hand. It was like a gentle fantasy land with happy children and animals. The thought crossed Sam's mind that this room was Heaven. Sam did something he hadn't done for a long time....

"God," he said quietly and self-consciously (after all he wasn't a regular church attender and wasn't sure what he believed on a good day).

"If you exist and you're listening, look after Brooklyn for me. She'll make upstairs better for you, I promise. She was born an angel and she died an angel. Keep her safe and tell her I love her and always will." A small tear rolled down Sam's cheek. Sam then picked Louis up as the boy looked on curiously and held him aloft, "Brooklyn, if you can hear me babe. I wanted to be your husband so much, I've adored you since we were kids. You were my first love and only love. The first girl I kissed, you're my everything. This house we have, the family we started, it's all you. You gave us our beautiful boy. I can't be believe in God because why would God take you and yet I can believe in Heaven because it's where you have to be. I am so, so sorry I couldn't get to you. I'm so sorry I couldn't protect you and save you. I hope you can forgive me, sweetheart. So, if you can hear me Brooklyn I ask just one thing from you."

"Look after Louis. Watch over him and protect him always. Shine your love on him every day. You'll always be here, you'll always be with him. Look after him."

Sam hugged Louis tight and kissed him. Louis tugged on Sam's ear which brought a sad smile to Sam's face. Sam carried Louis back to the living room where a sandwich and cup of cocoa was sat there. The sandwich looked like the blandest thing on earth. He couldn't comprehend even picking it up and having a bite. His Mom smiled at him as Sam sat on the couch with Louis on his chest and Sam closed his eyes.

A few moments later Louis was picked from Sam's chest and into the arms of Grandma. Sam thankfully descended into restful oblivion - for a few hours at least.
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Sam arrived home only minutes after Brooklyn did. He appeared both physically and emotionally exhausted. Brooklyn bit her lip, for she knew she was at fault. If she never insisted on going to Ella's house, none of this would have happened. She would have remained alive and could be pressing her lips to Sam's right now. Louis would still have a mom, Mr. Jones and Mrs. Jones would still have a daughter, and Sam would still have a fiancée.

Sam was single again, Brooklyn realized. There was nothing preventing him from moving on and marrying another woman. If all went as planned, it would be three whole months before she could return. Was that enough time for him to move on? It guilted her to hope the answer was no. She didn't want him to grieve for the next 90 days, but she want him to date someone else, either. Everything needed to be given time. No rushing out of the grieving process, no rushing to pack away her things, no rushing to find a step mother for Louis. Whatever happened throughout these next three months would be vital to their futures.

After Sam traveled to Louie's bedroom, Brooklyn decided to tag along. She was proud of the cute cartoon-style art she had designed for the walls. It had been fun designing and creating them. The outcome was perfect. To Brooklyn's surprise, Sam suddenly started praying out loud. Praying. That was something she didn't think she'd ever seen him do before. "Sam..." she found herself speaking aloud. He mentioned how she was born an angel, how he loved her, how she was his first love, and lastly, apologized for not being there to protect her.

"It's not your fault," she murmured as if he could possibly hear her. "If anything, it's mine. I was the one in the car. I was the one who didn't pay much attention to the approaching headlights. I was the one who died." A sad smile passed her lips as she reached out to gently stroke Louis' head. The way Sam held him so protectively was heart warming. Even though Brooklyn had only been gone for less than twenty four hours, she could tell Sam and Louis had already formed a new unspoken bond. She loved that fact beyond words. If she happened to fail her mission and be refused resurrection, at least Sam and Louis would always have each other.

She walked with them out of the bedroom and into the living room where Ms. Hanson had set down a sandwich for her son. "You really must eat, love," Brooklyn chimed in without thinking. But Sam had already fallen asleep. "....or it can wait until you wake up," she added with a chuckle. He may not have eaten quite yet, but at least he was finally getting some rest.

While waiting for him to wake up, she invested herself in some wing exercises. Earlier Sawyer had mentioned that new wings, especially wings from Dog and not God, were usually very frail and needed to be worked out to help them gain some strength and stamina. But how should I do this? she thought to herself. Standing in the middle of the living room not far from Sam, she gazed out of the window as she flexed and unflexed then stretched and unstretched her wings at a steady rhythm. In and out, side to side.

After a short while of that she was already growing weary. Regardless, she forced herself to continue doing it for at least another five minutes before stopping. It would prove to be beneficial to have stronger wings when traveling between altitudes, Sawyer had claimed. But when would I even need to do that? An exhausted Brooklyn needed a break. Collapsing on the couch next to Sam, she wrapped her arms around him and mindlessly stared straight ahead as she leaned her head on his shoulder.
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Sam waited by the main doors of the school he attended. Teenagers exited in varying stages of excitement. Relieved to be free of the day, looking forward to the evening, making plans for the weekend. Girls gossiped and boys jostled. High school, a time when hormones rage and kids become adults. So young, yet trying to be old.

"Hey" called Sam as he stepped out as Brooklyn was leaving school with Ella. They were both fifteen, shy friends, now good friends. Sam had waited for Brooklyn and there was something stirring within him. He found himself waiting for Brooklyn more and more, he found himself wanting to be with her more regularly. He called on her daily whether finding a reason to hang out, exchanging a text or even telephoning her. 'We're just good friends' he said unconvincingly to his Mom and sister when they teased.

"Do you want to catch a movie tonight?" he asked them both, although the question was directed at Brooklyn really, and Ella knew it. Waiting for a response he fell into step with the girls easily, like a normal group of friends. "I'm bored at home and I need to cut loose tonight" he said ('play it cool' thought Sam although he was no James Dean!) trying not to come across as needy. Brooklyn once said 'he was not like other guys' and 'she felt safe around him'. Sam interpreted that to mean she thought he was gay and he didn't exactly dispel that as being 'safe' meant more time with Brooklyn.

The problem was Sam remembered every impression Brooklyn left on him, the hand on his arm as she laughed at his jokes. The sensation of their thighs touching as they sat close together over lunch. If Sam had any true friend other than Brooklyn he would have told them he 'loved' Brooklyn even though he hardly knew what that meant.

Sam ran. He saw Brookyln waiting by the side of the road with a pram. Inside the pram was a baby. Brooklyn started to cross the road on a drizzly morning. Sam ran. He saw the car from afar. He shouted, "Brooklyn!". She turned and looked at him. She smiled. Sam ran, faster, faster, faster. He outran the speeding car and leaped. He jumped like there was no gravity and pushed Brooklyn and the pram out of the way of the car. His Mom picked up the baby and smiled.

Sam walked through an old, oak wooden door. He entered into a small ante room where there was nothing except an alcove and a dusty, spiralling staircase. In the alcove was a statuette. The figurine was female, and clothed in white. There was nothing to go except down the staircase. Down, down, down. Round and round. Down, down, down, "Down, down, down" sang a female voice hauntingly. Sam walked and walked. At the bottom of the stairs Brooklyn was stood there by a garden gate. She was dressed in white (always in white). He followed her through a gate into a woodland glade. In the middle of the glade was a pool of clearest blue. Sam was naked and walked into the pool. Down, down, down. Strong feminine arms pulled him back up.

Louis graduated high school. Sam and Brooklyn held hands, proud of their boy. Sam looked at his wife. Her eyes and smile were the same. She was beautiful.

Sam was old. Brooklyn was sat by his bedside, holding his hand. It had been a good life.

Sam lit the fire in the cabin they had rented. The snow fell outside, but inside was warm. Louis was fast asleep. Fresh air and hiking had tired them all out and it was the kind of rather fulfilling exhaustion that came from physical endeavour rather than mental and emotional tiredness. Brooklyn had stepped out of the shower, wrapped in a red towel, drying her hair with another.

"Come here gorgeous," he said smiling, biting his bottom lip. He walked over to her and placed his hands around her, resting in the small of her back. He lightly kissed her, their lips slowly coming together.

Sam drifted....

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Sam rubbed his eyes. He could hear a baby crying. He looked around the room, cloaked in darkness. 'Why am I sleeping on the couch?' he wondered before he sat up fully. Then the horror hit him. He was alive. Brooklyn wasn't. She was dead. Gone. He closed his eyes. 'Please let me sleep, please let me sleep' he begged. She was there in his dreams. In his dreams they were always together. She would always be there. 'Let me sleep. Let me die. Let me never wake up. I just want this pain to stop.' His thoughts dragged him to despair almost immediately.

Reality was 'no Brooklyn' and it felt awful. His heart had been given to another and she had gone, holding his heart always.

Louis cried and Sam felt ashamed that he wanted to die too. He walked into his room and picked him up and soothed him.

"I'm sorry son," he said as a tear dripped from his cheek onto Louis' sleepsuit as Sam changed him. Louis giggled and kicked out, his ankle dropping into his own faeces. Sam laughed and held Louis' legs up by the ankles. He wiped him clean and put a new diaper onto him. He kissed Louis, "I'll tell you something Junior, you keep an eye out for your old dad and I'll keep an eye out for you kiddo. You're going to keep me going Son. If it weren't for you I don't know what I'd do."

Sam fed Louis and put him back to bed. He walked back into the living room and grabbed the blanket his Mom had put on him. He walked back into Louis' bedroom and laid on the floor next to his crib and pulled the blanket over him. He tried to sleep, but his eyes couldn't leave the boy. Sam watched the babe's chest rise and fall, the sound of his breathing breaking the silence. Sam slowly noticed sliver's of grey break underneath the night curtains.

A new day was dawning yet it all felt so hopeless. Sam wished he could shrink and climb into Louis' crib. He wanted to hold him and cuddle him. He wanted to be a baby, he wanted to feel safe. 'Come back Brooklyn'.
Hidden 6 yrs ago Post by sweetserenity
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Sam had woken up, only to go back to sleep again moments later.

Brooklyn was ecstatic when he finally stirred. Perhaps he was in a better mood now and would want to turn on a movie, or play a board game with his mom, or anything else that would be entertaining for the angel. Yet he only had the energy to change and feed his son. Dark under eye circles were prominent on his face and his eyes were still pink from all the tears he had shed, she observed. She followed him over to the baby. At least Louis looked much more lively.

Part of her knew it wouldn't be long before he started questioning where his mother went, though. He had already reached towards her in the photograph. Before long, he would be speaking his first words. Brooklyn hoped she would be there- even if it's in angel form- to hear them.

It was very late in the night. In only a couple hours, traces of dawn were starting to appear through the window. Sam remained silently restless. Empathetic towards her fiancé but also growing quite bored, Brooklyn decided to walk through the wall of her son's room to explore the backyard.

Nothing had changed. Footprint-covered snow covered the whole area. There was a snowman towards the edge of the yard, one that Sam and Brooklyn had built together a couple weeks ago. She was happy it was still standing, although the carrot nose was covered with freshly fallen snow. That was upsetting. Would Sam notice if she brushed it off?

...presumably not. It could have been the wind, after all.

Thus she willed herself to really touch it as she brushed away the snow. It peacefully floated down to the ground. The sun was now higher on the horizon, so she rushed back inside. It would be a shame if he happened to commit a mortal sin so early in the morning; yet she wasn't willing to risk it. Nothing was worth the risk of possibly never rejoining her family again.
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"Sam, what are you doing on the floor?" Patty spoke softly, yet with an underlying sadness to her voice.

"Come on son, up you come. Come and sort yourself out," she implored gently.

Louis was awake looking quizzically at his feet as he kicked them out in the air in direct angles above him. He gurgled occasionally, as though he found some private joke both fascinating and hilarious at the same time.

Meanwhile, Sam laid on the floor, wrapped in the green sofa throw that was his makeshift blanket for the time being. He was cocooned into a tight ball, laid on his side staring at his son in his crib. Sam's eyes and face were devoid of attention and emotion. He felt vacant and empty. Desolate. He watched Louis kick and gurgle and wondered if he had realised he had been over a day without Mom. Mom who was always present at home with him. A thought passed Sam's mind that at least Louis would be too young to remember any of this, even when he notices his poor mother wasn't there any more that it would pass. Sam closed his eyes silently and felt a shudder of sadness. He would never know his Mom and in some ways that was worse. Sam knew that for as long as he lived he would ensure Louis knew everything about his mother. Sam wished they had taken more photographs. He resolved immediately to have printed and backed up every single photo he had taken on his phone. He wished he had taken photos of her every day and made a mental note to ask Mr. and Mrs. Jones for photographs of her when she was little so Louis would have as much as possible of Brooklyn's short, beautiful life.

"SHIT!" said Sam, standing up abruptly and pacing the small bedroom up and down, "oh shit, oh shit, fuck!" he said wearily. Sam looked at his own mother in the room. He'd heard her words but couldn't process them when he was on the floor. That she had been trying to get him to rouse himself from his melancholy.

"Oh god, what have I done? I am such a fucking awful man. Bad man, bad man," he cried.

"What is it son, what is it?" pleaded Patty.

"Brooklyn's folks. Her poor parents. I didn't speak to them yesterday at all. They're sure to have heard of the crash but they won't know who. What if they don't know? They don't know their sweet child is dead."

Sam put his hand over his face, losing himself. Another horrible day to face.

"It's okay Sam, it's okay. Ella spoke to them yesterday and they called here whilst you were at the station. They wanted to come round but I told them I'd call them back. When you got home yesterday you were such a mess. I can't let anyone near you if I can help it. You need to reach for your own oxygen first son. I..."

"You had no right to do that Mom!" cried Sam, "they will be devastated and think I don't care. They'll think I did it, just like the police do!"

"Now, quiet that crazy talk Sam..." interrupted Patty before Sam interjected.

"I'm going around this morning Mom. I need to see them. They need to see Louis."

"Not that you're not," Patty said firmly. "You're not driving and you need to wash and put some clean clothes on. I know this is tough son, but I'm going to help you every step of the way."

Sam picked his son out of his crib and walked past him mom, "Louis needs his breakfast," he said sourly.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Patty walked into the living room where Sam was feeding Louis. "I'm sorry Sam. I don't want us to fall out and I know you're hurting like you've never hurt before. I want to protect you and help you, I really do but I don't know how..."

"I'll call Brooklyn's folks and ask them to come around. I'm sorry I put them off I really am."

Patty left the room and Sam could hear her talking on the phone. He knew she meant well and he knew she acted out of love for him. He looked at Louis and the thought passed his mind about how he would feel if he was dead. The thought felt like a hot knife through him as if he thought the very idea was sending him to hell. His own baby, what kind of a man thought that shit?

Sam forced himself to change and dress Louis and held the boy tight. He kissed him as Patty returned and told him that Brooklyn's parents would be calling that morning. Whilst Patty watched Louis Sam walked into the bathroom and stared in the mirror. He looked like garbage. Black rings dragged his eyes down, he hadn't shaved since two mornings ago. Not being the most hirsute man his facial hair now looked untidy. His hair was ruffled and untidy. His eyes were red rimmed and his cheeks sticky with the tears that had fallen. No matter how much he had cried and thought there couldn't possibly be a single tear left in him there was always a torrent more at the mere thought of Brooklyn.

Sam was still wearing the same clothes he had been wearing on that fateful night, same sweater, same t-shirt, same jeans, same socks, same underwear. He lifted his shirt off and smelled himself. He stank. "I stink of the end of life" he said into the mirror. He threw his shirt and sweater into the corner of the bathroom and looked at himself with self-loathing. He hadn't washed, shaved or brushed his teeth for a few days. "I've been looking after Louis like this," he said into the mirror, "you're a fucking disgrace," he said quietly.

Sam washed his face and then shaved mechanically. He looked in the mirror and almost immediately could see a transformation. He brushed his teeth and swilled his mouth with mouthwash letting the minty, chemical fluid roll around his mouth. Sam turned on the shower and let it warm up before stripping and stepping in. He let the hot water flow over him and clean him, to try and wash away some of the pain, some of the sadness. Images of Brooklyn came to the forefront of his mind. Her smile and her laugh. Her playful punches on his arm. Her smile, her smile, her smile....

Sam looked down at his naked body and felt so useless, as though his very manhood had disappeared because he couldn't save the one he loved. He rested his head against the wall of the shower unit and shut his eyes, letting the water flow over him.

Time passed. Sam couldn't tell whether it was minutes or hours or even seconds but he opened his eyes. Sam turned off the shower, slowly noticing the shower head spraying jets to streams to trickles to drops of water. He left the shower and got himself dry and walked into his bedroom. He looked around and his heart dropped again. Brooklyn's things were everywhere. Her hairbrush, her nail file. Shoes left in the corner of the room. Her jewellery box. She was everywhere. Sam walked to his wardrobe and opened it to get dressed. He looked at Brooklyn's drawers and wardrobe. 'Not now, not now, not now' he thought. Being those doors was fear. Something to be terrified of. All her possessions. Sam knew he couldn't open those foreboding pieces of furniture without breaking down. 'Not today Sam' he thought.

Dressed Sam lay on his bed for a moment, wondering what the hell he was going to do with the rest of his life. He turned and stared at Brooklyn's side by the window. More than anything he wanted to reach out and hold her. To kiss her just one more time. To value just one more day. "I love you so much," he said before turning onto Brooklyn's side of the bed and burying his face into her pillow, smelling the residual scent of her hair and cologne.

Sam heard a knock at the door. "Are you okay Sam?" asked Patty. "Brooklyn's folks will be here soon."

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When Brooklyn arrived back inside, her would-be mother in law was soothing Sam. She leaned on the doorway as Mrs. Hanson explained how she called Mr. Jones and Mrs. Jones parents yesterday. That intruiged Brooklyn, although also struck her with a pang of guilt. Her parents had always been talkative, lively people.... but now, with their daughter dead, they were probably different. For all Brooklyn knew, they could be hunched over the bed in her old bedroom sobbing their hearts out.

Brooklyn wanted to go to them.

Sourly, Sam exited the room as he mumbled an excuse about feeding Louis. Mrs. Hanson opened her mouth to speak, but closed it again right after. There was no confronting Sam as long as he was in this state. She looked down at her fingernails and lingered a moment before heading out to Sam. Brooklyn followed. True to his word, Sam was found feeding Louis.

Brooklyn lovingly cradled her son's cheek before Mrs. Hanson stated that she would call Brooklyn's parents and ask them to visit. The young woman's head shot up, her eyes filled with worry and delight. The worry was for seeing how distressed her parents may be. There was no question that the death of their daughter impacted them. The delight was for simply seeing her parents again. They didn't get the chance to come around as often as Mrs. Hanson did because they lived farther away. Seeing them was always a treat.

Sam left to go get ready for the day. Honestly, Brooklyn had hardly noticed how messy he had become through not showering and not changing clothes. She had been far too focused on his emotions. Sam would always be Sam, even if he didn't shave for three months and decided to get a septum piercing. Nothing in the world could physically impact Sam enough to make Brooklyn turn away from him forever.

~

Valentine's Day: 9th grade.

Brooklyn paraded down the hallway with a heart-shaped card in her hand. Written in the card was a handwritten confession of Brooklyn's feelings toward her crush: Samuel Hanson. Ella strolled beside her with a bounce in her step. It had been her idea for Brooklyn to finally confess to Sam. Ella had been there since the beginning; having been at the same birthday party that Sam and Brooklyn met at five years ago. The time had flown by.

Brooklyn stopped in front of Sam's locker. Looking around hesitantly, she really didn't want to be seen by anyone while she was doing this. In early high school, nothing was more embarrassing than having pure emotions.

"I don't know if I can do this," Brooklyn confessed nervously. Her hands fidgeted with the homemade card. "There's no way Sam could like me back. He's so... amazing. He's perfect. He's everything I'm not. Have you heard him okay the guitar?"

Ella shook her head. "You're the only one he's played the guitar for! Trust me when I say he likes you back. I've seen the way he looks at you. And don't talk about yourself like that! You're amazing, Brooklyn. Any guy would be lucky to have you."

Biting her lip, Brooklyn nodded in acknowledgement of her friend's words before cautiously sliding the card into Sam's locker. Then she blushed deeply and scurried away, hand in hand with her best friend.

The note read:

Sam,
Ever since we first met, we've clicked. I can crack funny jokes with you, pass you pointless notes in class, and ride around on your back. But I can also rely on you for anything, trust you with my deepest secrets, and be comforted by your presence the way I am by no one else's. You make me happy, Samuel Hanson. You're strong, you're handsome, you're smart, you're perfect.

I love you.

I hope this note doesn't end things between us. You don't have to like me back, I'll completely understand. At the very least, just have a great Valentine's Day, okay? Your happiness makes me happy.

-

~

Only a couple minutes after Mrs. Hanson went to go fetch Sam, the front door opened. Brooklyn's parents entered. Brooklyn had heard the door open and walked over to them. The last time they were here, they had been staying as their house got remodeled. Now, they were visiting as their daughter's corpse lay elsewhere. The somber expression on their faces was striking. Yet there was still hope beneath their eyes. Hope for a better future. Hope that their daughter had gone to Heaven. Hope that the man their daughter loved most would be able to move on someday.

Mrs. Autumn Jones had bobbed brown hair that looked freshly washed but uncombed. Her blue eyes bore the aforementioned hope, yet still appeared quite tired. Her husband's hair was considerably gray and there was evidence of scratch lines on his face. Similar to how Sam was devastated that he couldn't save his fiancé, Mr. Rick Jones was devastated that he couldn't save his baby girl. Brooklyn bit her lip. He must have been clawing at his face in the midst of his distress.

The grieving couple walked over to the living room. Laying down in his crib was Louis. Mr. Jones lovingly picked up the young boy and walked over to sit on the couch. His wife remained standing as she called out, "Hello, Sam or Patty, are you home?"
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Sam walked into the living room and saw Brooklyn's parents there. His eyes flashed with anger momentarily as he saw Brooklyn's Dad pick up Louis. 'What the fuck is he doing picking Louis up' he raged inside. Sam didn't want anyone to pick Louis up - no one! His father's instinct to protect kicked in and he walked across the room. His pace slowed as common sense and rationality resumed briefly. Of course, Patty had picked up Louis and there was no reason why Rick and Autumn shouldn't.

"Hi, Autumn, hi Rick," he said as he walked over. Autumn was stood, arms outstretched a mournful look on her face.

"I'm so sorry," she said as Sam hugged her, and tears dropped onto her shoulder.

"I'm sorry to Autumn, I should have looked after her, I should have protected her," Sam sobbed.

He stood straight and tried to compose himself.

"Autumn, Rick, why has this happened? I can't believe she is not here."

Rick Jones kissed Louis and put him down on his mat and stood too. He opened his arms to and tried to wrap his arms around his wife and was-to-be future-son-in-law. Sam cried and they held each other silently.

"It's okay Sam, it's okay," said Rick. Sam had been a part of their life for such a long time and although he wasn't blood he did consider him almost like a son. The boy had needed a Father Figure more than most. He certainly loved him like a son and knew he and Brooklyn were good for each other. They'd gone through 'Dad handshake' (Brooklyn didn't believe Sam when he said her Dad had tried to break his hand when it was announced they were formally dating). They'd gone through that wary look when boys were turning into men, all gangly 'monkey arms', awkward and full of hormones. Rick had watched Sam become a man, a provider and a solid rock in his precious daughter's life. Rick always felt embarrassed when he recalled Brooklyn announcing her pregnancy and the first thing he did was ruffle Sam's hair and said 'well done' to him.

"She's in heaven now," whispered Autumn, "she's watching us now. I know it," she said.

Sam wanted to believe it, wanted it so much. Over the last day there were seconds he was sure she was there with them, other times he had never felt so alone in his life. Finding hope was seemingly impossible.

"Remember her Sam, remember..." Autumn said softly...




Sam was besotted with Brooklyn. He found any excuse to hang out with her. She'd pop round to his house and they'd be in his bedroom and he'd try and play guitar for her. He'd sing light heartedly and smile with her. She had the sweetest smile as she tolerated him. He got on with Ella of course and they were a threesome in many respects but it was Brooklyn who he wanted to be around. To be fifteen. He knew that he loved Ella and was beginning to feel that she was the one. She sat on a beanbag in his room, her knees tucked up tightly to her chest as she wrapped her arms around her legs. He tried not to notice the curve of her legs in her jeans, the subtle changes in her hips as he sang.

They still hugged - as friends of course, but Sam often felt uncomfortable at their platonic friendship. 'What would happen if she knew? What would happen if she felt the same way? What if? What if?' Now and then they sat together and she rested her head on his shoulder or they put their arms around each other. 'What if? What if?'

Of course, school could be tough. He was quiet and a little sensitive, especially when Dad shot through. A couple of the other guys called him 'fag' and he knew having girls as best friends caused him a lot of trouble. It was Valentine's Day. Since they'd become friends they often claimed they were each other's Valentine but of course that was just kids playing. Brooklyn didn't know that he was serious when he said it back.

He opened his locker in the school hall and out fell a card. It was a drawing with a heart with an arrow through it with Sam and Brooklyn's name written over it in cursive text. Sam opened up the card and his first thought was 'the bastards'. He was sure it was a practical joke. He read the words again and again. 'They're fucking with me,' he thought before a sudden realisation dawned on him...

Like Archimedes descending into the bath and crying 'Eureka!' Sam's eyes widened. It was Brooklyn's writing. She felt the same way. She had said everything he could ever have dreamed of. So much time wasted! So much time lost! If only he had said something, weeks, months ago! She said, 'I love you!'

'And I love you too!' thought Sam as he clutched the card in his hand like it was the most precious thing in the world. He walked to class and saw Ella and Brooklyn chatting. Brooklyn looked worried about something and then she saw him. She looked afraid and nervous and her eyes cast down to the card in his eyes. Sam walked straight up to Brooklyn - his body millimetres away from her. There was almost friction between their clothes they were so close. He looked in her eyes as her eager upturned face displayed that recognition too. Without a word he tentatively kissed her, their lips cautious together. He'd never kissed a girl before and he was worried he wouldn't know what to do. His fingers slipped into hers. It felt suddenly different from the times they'd held hands before. Their lips parted slowly and their smiles beamed at each other.

"Get a room!" said Ella sarcastically, although her face betrayed her joy at the two of them FINALLY getting together.





"She's gone, and it's not going to be alright..." said Sam his heart broken as he remembered Brooklyn as a girl, before she became the amazing woman she would be.

"I'm sorry Autumn, Rick. Your baby, your baby!"

Patty discreetly entered the room. She had made tea for everyone. She hugged Autumn and Rick and expressed her condolences. Brooklyn's Dad just seemed to speak in platitudes and Sam wasn't sure he believed a word of it as he sat back and listened. It was horrible, everyone dealing with their private grief, everyone trying to support each other.

The morning was shaken out of it's sadness by a knock at the door. Sam went to answer and there was the cop who interviewed him yesterday.

"Sam - there's something we need to tell you about the accident."
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Throughout her family's conversation, Brooklyn stayed nearby and gazed out of the window. Every now and then she would glance over at her parents, half-expecting them to see her. After all, she was their daughter. Why didn't that permit them to sense her any more than a stranger would? If they saw her, Brooklyn imagined that there would be a jovial reunion and everything would be splendid again. The only tears shed would be of happiness. Brooklyn would get to hug her parents and assure them that everything was alright now. Then she would hold Louis in her arms as she walked over to the love of her life and kiss his worries away.

Only three more months.

Waiting three months unfortunately meant that she would be missing Christmas. That saddened Brooklyn greatly; for not only was it her favorite holiday, but it would also be her and Louis' first Christmas. She had been wanting to buy Louis a bib or a onesie that said Santa's Elf-in-Training. But now that was highly unlikely to happen, unless if Sam had the same idea.

Louis was a really good baby. He hardly cried, he wasn't wetting his diaper every five minutes, and he was really healthy. Almost without thinking, Brooklyn drifted away from the window over to her child. Just imagining how she would feel if he died gave her an idea of how her parents currently felt. It was heart-wrenching. "Hey Louie," she cooed as if he could hear her, "You've been really awesome since the world first greeted you. Stay like that, okay? Don't start throwing tantrums or anything of the like." She rubbed one of his tiny hands. "Keep an eye on daddy, too. Make sure that he soon resumes his normal eating habits. Also make him shower daily. He needs to do this so he can take care of you excellently and set a good example for you. Daddy's a good man, Louie. I'm really glad he asked me to marry him."

There was suddenly a knock at the door. Sam stood up to open it, and Brooklyn felt compelled to follow. Something told her that this was important. After making his straightforward greeting, the cop continued, "We, the police force, just got a considerable amount of details on Brooklyn's passing." The angel's eyes widened. "...the rear bumper showed signs of indentation. At first we presumed that was from tumbling down the hill, but it was so deep and sharp, not to mention in such a unique spot, that we have come to the conclusion that all of this was caused by another person."

The cop paused as he let that sink in. Brooklyn wrapped her arms around Sam protectively, willing him to not shed any more tears. He had already spilled far more than she ever thought was possible. After a few moments, the cop continued, "The collision is what caused the car to fly off the road. If you remember, that was a freezing night. Some roads, including the one she had been driving on, was covered with thin ice. After getting hit, she likely spun around in circles on the road before the vehicle lost it's balance. That's when it tumbled down into the ditch, still maintaining circular rotations. The roof of the car was almost completely smashed in."

Another pause. He checked his watch before continuing, "Her body has been examined and we have deduced some frightening results. Firstly, tumbling down the ditch caused her to obtain severe whiplash. Not enough to snap her neck, but close. Definitely would have required surgery and bed rest if she had survived. Next, as you may have noticed when you verified the body, her skin was covered in cuts from the glass of the windshield and windows. It has been discovered that some of those cuts were so deep that they would have required stitches. Having cuts that deep meant that she was bleeding a significant amount, which explains the blood on the seats. Lastly, there was overall some soft tissue damage and minor spinal cord damage. With all of these elements combined...." the cop hesitated. The next part would be news that nobody would ever want to hear about a loved one. "....there is no doubt that Ms. Brooklyn Mae Jones died a prolonged, painful death."
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Too. Much. Information.

Inside Sam's head was a maelstrom of emotions as his brain tried to compute the words the officer said into something meaningful he could process. She suffered. Precious, beautiful Brooklyn suffered and Sam had driven past her as she lay dying in a ditch. He could have saved her. If he had walked the distance to Ella's he would have found her. If had driven slower he would have found her. If he had thought the obvious, he would have found her.

Sam tried, he really tried but as he listened to the report he couldn't shake the thought that he could have saved his angel. She lay there, bloodied, battered, bludgeoned by the cruel metal of her vehicle and there she waited. Waited for help. Waited for Sam.

Sam sat on the sofa and put his head between his knees. He felt the arm of someone attempting to comfort him as the horror of what happened registered within his conscious.

He looked up at the officer, his eyes ringed red with lack of sleep and intermittent tears, "You're telling me that someone else did this?"

Sam stood as the realisation hit him, "you're telling me that someone hit her? Didn't stop? Didn't call you guys? THE FUCKER DIDN'T STOP?" he cried. Sam paced the room, delirious with the news. "You find him. You find the person who did this. You find him before me because I will kill him. I will put my hands around his throat and I will squeeze the life out of him."

Sam walked to the door to leave the room. He couldn't deal with this right now. As his hand touched the handle he turned around and walked to the officer.

"You will find the person who did this. You will find them," Sam said wanting desperately to prod him in the chest. "I want to see the monster who did this and bring him to justice. For Brooklyn."

Sam had a wide-eyed look. The overwhelming feeling right now was one of self-loathing with a side dish of revenge.
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