The Subjunctive 389 words Helen E

If only things were different and I was still looking forward to a last golden summer with my school friends. This happened instead. A-levels had finished and everyone planned to meet up and celebrate. I had just passed my driving test and pleaded with my mother to borrow her car. She refused at first and then relented when I swore not to drink. I drove off in the tiny Fiat to pick up my best friend Bella and meet everyone beside the river. We were demob happy and discussed our plans excitedly. Most hoped to go off to university and some were going travelling. Everyone was free to spend a wild summer until September.

As it grew dark, we lit a fire and someone began to pass around a joint. I thought a couple of puffs couldn’t hurt. It turned out to be more than a couple but I still felt okay to drive when it was time to leave. Bella was wasted but, hey, she wasn’t driving. I was supposed be back before midnight so I put my foot down. A corner came up too fast and the car veered into a grassy bank and flipped upside down, landing in the field beyond. Bella and I were left hanging by our seat belts. She looked round groggily then winced. I unbuckled us both: we were fairly unscathed except that Bella had broken her collarbone. I took Bella’s phone to call the ambulance as mine had smashed in the crash. I thought I had been responsible and phoned my mum. . She was madder than a wet hen once she had checked we were both ballpark okay. “You’ve been drinking haven’t you?” “No,” I said truthfully. “Well if you’re high on anything the police will test you and the best you can hope for is a huge fine, if you are ever allowed to drive again.”

So here I am stuck in the stench of grease in this boring hamburger joint. I can’t afford to go to university this year. I’ve got my impending fine to pay off and mum’ s car to pay back and God knows when I can get a new phone.. I can’t even Facebook my friends let alone take time to see them. If only… If only…