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Remember It All

Phoebe Trahar

I remember it. I remember it all. I was staring out the car window

watching raindrops against the glass race each other down the frame

gaining speed by collecting little drops on the way. What once was

delicate pitter patters soon evolved into a thunderous drum roll of

heavy droplets on the roof of the car as my mum drove me to


“Harper,” my mother badgered. “Where is your jumper? You’re

going to be freezing!”

The smooth leather seats are so frosty they seem to bite my bare

skin making my teeth chatter and goosebumps rise.

“What about your drink bottle or your phone? How are you going

to call me to pick you up?”

“It’ll be fine”.

“No it won’t.” She drew a deep sigh. “Did you even finish your

homework or put your computer on charge? Harper, you need to be

less forgetful.”

This was our usual routine, I forget something, my mum notices

and then proceeds to list everything I’ve ever forgotten in my entire


They say that in moments of terror time switches to slow

motion. But this crash came in an instant. The car suddenly

appeared meters away in what seemed to be magic, my stomach

flipped and an irresistible force catapulted us both forwards. In the

final milliseconds my jaw dropped to let out a scream, before the

cacophony of screeching tyres and shattering glass hit like a

tidal wave.

Breathe. Just remember to breathe. It’s been a week since the

accident. I need to concentrate on right now, right here. I glance up

to the ticking clock and rows of hunched over students scribbling

on their papers then back down to my own science test. I re-read

and re-read the first question hoping if I stare it down long enough

it might just answer itself. Suddenly a squeaking white board

marker alerts my attention and I look up to find my teacher crossing

off minutes. Something about the image sparks a match in my brain

immediately taking me back to all of the science lessons. To my

surprise and shock all the answers begin to flow frommy pencil. My

hand swiftly moves across the page as I see flashes from every single

class, exercise and note. I remember my teacher’s chirpy voice

explaining frequency, the smell of chemicals in the lab… Once I