Through Broken Glass
Through Broken Glass
Push, push, push.
His legs acted like pistons, up and down, firmly set against the slippery pedals. Keep going, keep going constantly ran through his mind while his blood pumped harder, harder. He squinted ahead through the dense forest of raindrops, just able to see the road in front of him. His friend pedalled beside him, his short takes of breath easily audible.
Oh, how his muscles ached. Each push was a struggle. But where was he going to go if he didn’t push through the pain?
“Nowhere,” he whispered, leaning forward as he struggled up the incredibly steep hill. He could feel the thin bike tyres slip slightly on the road; but nothing could deter him.
His breathing was perfectly in time with his pedalling. In, out, up, down… it moved like clockwork. Sweat mingled with rain rolled off his face and joined the mass of liquid around him, while his cycling suit clung to his skin uncomfortably.
They neared the top of the hill, their legs weak with strain. He let out a long sigh of relief as the ground started to fall away from underneath him, his bike gathering speed with what seemed like minimal effort.
He reached for his drink bottle while he still had the chance; he was going to have to pedal again soon enough. The cool water numbed his mouth and caused his teeth to ache with a sear of pain. Again he squinted, desperate to see the road ahead, yet the water continued to pour down uncontrollably.
Just as he clicked his bottle back into place, his friend called out from behind him. It was impossible to hear anything above the rain and the skidding of his tyres along the soaking road.
“WHAT?” He yelled in reply, the freezing air burning his lungs as he opened his mouth to speak.
“I SAID, ARE WE GOING TO MAKE THE INTERSECTION?”
He forced his eyes to focus further ahead. Just visible were the traffic lights, the bright colours standing out amongst the grey.
“I THINK SO!” he yelled back. It would be too hard to stop after going for so long; his muscles seemed to be acting of their own accord now.
The downhill slope gradually faded. He resumed his furious pedalling, eager to keep going as fast as possible. The rain water on the road sprayed up like fire, burning his bare legs.
“The lights are about to go red!” His friend’s tone was one of panic.
“We’ll be fine!”
He was sure of it. It would only take them a few seconds to cross the intersection anyway, and there were no cars present to cause a threat.
They both continued to pedal. The light flashed orange for a moment and out of nowhere a car, a bright, shiny white car zoomed from beside him. His friend skidded to a stop, yelling wildly; the brakes were slammed by both cyclist and driver; tyres skidded everywhere on the slippery road while he tried to regain his wild thoughts… it was all happening too fast…
The car sharply turned but continued to move closer to him. He couldn’t get away fast enough; a bang and his bike crumpled from beneath him while he slid across the soaking bonnet, arms flailing, vision fading…
With a sickening crunch his head was forced through something solid; glass flew everywhere and within moments of feeling a piercing pain around his neck it all went black…
He was fifteen.
RIP, Ben.
His legs acted like pistons, up and down, firmly set against the slippery pedals. Keep going, keep going constantly ran through his mind while his blood pumped harder, harder. He squinted ahead through the dense forest of raindrops, just able to see the road in front of him. His friend pedalled beside him, his short takes of breath easily audible.
Oh, how his muscles ached. Each push was a struggle. But where was he going to go if he didn’t push through the pain?
“Nowhere,” he whispered, leaning forward as he struggled up the incredibly steep hill. He could feel the thin bike tyres slip slightly on the road; but nothing could deter him.
His breathing was perfectly in time with his pedalling. In, out, up, down… it moved like clockwork. Sweat mingled with rain rolled off his face and joined the mass of liquid around him, while his cycling suit clung to his skin uncomfortably.
They neared the top of the hill, their legs weak with strain. He let out a long sigh of relief as the ground started to fall away from underneath him, his bike gathering speed with what seemed like minimal effort.
He reached for his drink bottle while he still had the chance; he was going to have to pedal again soon enough. The cool water numbed his mouth and caused his teeth to ache with a sear of pain. Again he squinted, desperate to see the road ahead, yet the water continued to pour down uncontrollably.
Just as he clicked his bottle back into place, his friend called out from behind him. It was impossible to hear anything above the rain and the skidding of his tyres along the soaking road.
“WHAT?” He yelled in reply, the freezing air burning his lungs as he opened his mouth to speak.
“I SAID, ARE WE GOING TO MAKE THE INTERSECTION?”
He forced his eyes to focus further ahead. Just visible were the traffic lights, the bright colours standing out amongst the grey.
“I THINK SO!” he yelled back. It would be too hard to stop after going for so long; his muscles seemed to be acting of their own accord now.
The downhill slope gradually faded. He resumed his furious pedalling, eager to keep going as fast as possible. The rain water on the road sprayed up like fire, burning his bare legs.
“The lights are about to go red!” His friend’s tone was one of panic.
“We’ll be fine!”
He was sure of it. It would only take them a few seconds to cross the intersection anyway, and there were no cars present to cause a threat.
They both continued to pedal. The light flashed orange for a moment and out of nowhere a car, a bright, shiny white car zoomed from beside him. His friend skidded to a stop, yelling wildly; the brakes were slammed by both cyclist and driver; tyres skidded everywhere on the slippery road while he tried to regain his wild thoughts… it was all happening too fast…
The car sharply turned but continued to move closer to him. He couldn’t get away fast enough; a bang and his bike crumpled from beneath him while he slid across the soaking bonnet, arms flailing, vision fading…
With a sickening crunch his head was forced through something solid; glass flew everywhere and within moments of feeling a piercing pain around his neck it all went black…
He was fifteen.
RIP, Ben.