SOON Online Magazine

Stories

The Trial of Mrs Hughes by Nerissa Leah Scheik

To anyone observing, Mrs. Hughes, in spite of a slightly dazed expression, would have seemed perfectly normal, watching a bevy of children playing and cars whizzing by. But to Mrs. Hughes, the faces of her 6 year old students blended into one big blur and their chatter faded into the background. Carolyn Hughes was waiting for her sister to take her home, herself being in no condition to drive. She recalled her sister's voice on the phone, broken sentences that revealed hints of terrible news. The endless pacing stopped when a sympathetic looking policeman appeared at her classroom door, and after first making sure that she was sitting down, told her what she never imagined would happen. A visit to the morgue was followed by the identification of the bodies. To everyone else it seemed to be over. For Mrs. Hughes, however, the ordeal was just beginning. She walked into her house, recalling moments that had occurred just hours before. She knew she would never forget her daughter's last words, her son's one last wave - and a final glimpse of the perpetually impatient expression on her husband's face. Still reeling from the shock, she did not waste time crying, but instead went slowly about the house, covering all the pictures of her family, covering anything that reminded her of them. The funeral was held a few days later and Carolyn Hughes held her head up high, staring at the coffins, one large and two little, while her relatives and friends watched her anxiously, looking for the slightest sign that she would break. They were not far from wrong, but they could not see inside Carolyn's head, into her throbbing mind which asked over and over why it hadn't been her, until the pressure overcame her and she sank into her chair. Weeks later, she summoned enough strength to learn the grisly details of her family's accident. It turned out the driver that had hit their car had been drinking the night before and rammed into them after breaking a traffic light. His alcohol level was well over four times the legal limit. As strong as she was, she did not find the courage to attend his trial, but the news that he had been given a long prison sentence comforted her just a little. A month passed, a month spent mourning, with frequent trips to the graveyard and with much time and care spent choosing flowers to be placed on the three graves. Carolyn often talked to her husband and children during these trips, and asked them what to do, how to get through her grief. During this time, dust gathered on the piano that her son used to play on everyday, and on the photographs furiously slammed down onto the tables on which they were placed. Her clothes and shoes and the rest of the furniture had been packed, for even though she received no answers from her family, something told her to move away. Move away she did, to a city far away from where her nightmare had begun. But the voices still haunted her-she heard her family while she was cooking, while she was reading and especially when she was trying to go to sleep. Fleeting thoughts of suicide crossed her mind, but she told herself that it was pointless, that she had a purpose and had to continue with her life. Every evening she asked herself what her aim was-what could she do to shut out those voices? Slowly, the answer came. She began with putting up those forgotten photographs, took out the piano and dusted it lovingly. Carolyn did not want to forget-she wanted to accept. The best way seemed to be to let everything fade away until it was just a wisp but she fought the urge and instead, dived deep into the heart of the problem. She read about the frequency of car crashes, of how careless and ignorant people could be when lives were in their hands. She would have to rebuild her life - it was the only obvious way. She got a job as a teacher at the local school and spent the rest of her time talking to law enforcement officers about traffic lights and regulations, discussed different ways to try and prevent people from being killed on the road. For many years, Carolyn continued with her quest. The days seemed to drag but were spent working to support herself financially as well as to ease her mental state. She would sit on her favourite armchair next to the lamp, reading, and would occasionally put her book down to stare into space, waiting for something she knew would happen, but was not quite sure of what it was. Memories of her family were vague, a reminder of happy days that had passed, but were something to hold on to, and to push her awake in the mornings. One evening, the rain was coming down in torrents, almost blinding sheets, and the storm was punctuated by a strong wind, not howling, but enough to worry anyone. Carolyn, for some odd reason, suddenly felt the urge to go for a drive. Half an hour later, she approached a crossroads, but did not slow down as there seemed no be no other cars. She sped up, the car shot forward and from out of nowhere, another vehicle gunned towards her. She was unaware of the drunk driver, just a few metres away from hitting her, and only saw him at the last moment, when the dark outline of the other car became visible. It happened in an instant, the frantic screeching of tires, the reverberating sound of the collision and the smashing of glass. Carolyn opened her eyes to see water all around her, and one bright light shining from above. The water was empty, save for her body, but she could see her son's face not far from her. The rain had stopped, but the sun wasn't shining, it wasn't the sunlight that she could see. From behind her son, her daughter stretched out a hand and her husband smiled. Carolyn Hughes had finally gone home to her family.

© 2004 Nerissa Leah Scheik

Back to previous page

---

©copyright SOON Ministries

Contact us