Survivor’s Guilt

Survivor’s Guilt

“Why did you survive?”

The officer didn’t ask it exactly like that, but I knew the real question behind his words. His voice was careful, his eyes softer than they should have been, but it didn’t matter. I could feel the weight of the question, of everyone in the room thinking the same thing, of the parents standing in the window across from me, watching the girl who lived when their children didn’t.

“Look, Charlottee—”
“My name’s Andy.”

The officer gave my grandmother that familiar, puzzled look that everyone did when I corrected them. I saw him glance down at his chart, then back at me with a sigh, probably deciding it wasn’t worth arguing. I kept my gaze fixed on my shoes, knowing my grandmother would probably tell him to just go with it.

“Miss Collins,” he tried again, more cautiously this time. “I know this must be very difficult for you right now. If you need to step out for a moment, collect yourself, just let me know.
But I do need to know what happened in that car. I can’t write a report without your statement.”

I started picking at the skin around my thumbnail, the familiar, useless movement. “Me, Collin, Morgan, Kate, and Sam were headed back to our house that night.”

*

“Collin, just take the seatbelt,” I said, my voice firm but impatient.
“I already said no. I’m older, so you have to listen to me. Take the seatbelt,” he insisted,
crossing his arms stubbornly.
“You can’t be older than me, idiot! We’re twins!” I shot back. “Just take the seatbelt.”
Kate, who was driving, groaned in frustration. “Don’t get me wrong, I love how you guys’ care
about each other’s safety and all, but if one of you doesn’t just take the damn seatbelt in the
next 10 seconds, I swear I’m going to lose it.”
I dropped the seatbelt in Collin’s lap, refusing to make a scene. After a moment, he finally gave
in, with a dramatic sigh, and fastened the seatbelt.

    * 

“Hold on a second. So, you weren’t wearing a seatbelt?” The officer interrupted; his voice sharp.

I looked up at him for the first time. “Yeah, Kate’s car was pretty broken down, so one of the seatbelts in the back was missing.”

“I’m guessing this is why you were found outside of the vehicle, and not in the lake with… everyone else,” he said carefully.

“Yes. The car door swung open, and I fell out onto the grass,” I explained, my voice quieter now.

“Okay, please continue.”

*

“Wait, turn it up! I love this song!” Sam shouted, pointing at Kate, who was mouthing the lyrics while keeping her eyes on the road.

“You have the worst taste in music,” Kate mocked, looking back at him with a playful smirk.

Collin and Morgan started teasing the two of them, laughing loudly in the backseat. In that brief moment, I saw a flash of bright headlights out of the corner of my eye, growing larger as they filled the backseat with white light.

I didn’t have time to think. The car lurched sideways, the tires screeching violently against the ice. A deafening crash hit the side of the car, and I was thrown forward, weightless in the chaos. Everything went into a blur of sound. Metal crunching, glass shattering.

Then, everything stopped for a split second.

The car slammed into something. I didn’t see what it was at first, but I felt it, something sharp and sudden, sending a brutal jolt through my body. The force tossed me, and the seat beneath me disappeared entirely. The next thing I knew, the world had completely tilted, and I was weightlessly thrown from the car, spinning through the air.

The air felt cold as I fell, the ground coming up at me too fast. I barely had time to brace myself before I hit the grass. My body slammed into the ground with such force, it knocked the breath right out of me.

The world kept spinning, and my ears were ringing. Before I could really understand what had happened, I heard the unmistakable sound of splashing water. I twisted my head, just in time to see the car, our car, teetering dangerously on the edge of the shore, before it slid in completely, swallowed by the black water.

*

“There’s still something I don’t understand, Miss Collins.” The officer’s voice cut through the memory, his eyes narrowing in confusion. “If you flew out of the car, why did we find you at the scene soaked to the bone, nearly suffering from frostbite?”

I looked him in the eyes, as if the answer should have been obvious. “I jumped into the water to try and save my friends.” Even as I said it, I knew part of me was lying. I hadn’t jumped for everyone.

He stared at me, skepticism written all over his face. “You jumped into freezing water with three broken ribs and a fractured arm?”

I felt a surge of frustration, almost anger, as I leaned forward, my voice low. “Officer. My brother was in that car. I would’ve jumped in if my own head was falling off.”
He exhaled slowly, softening. “Right, of course. My apologies. Please, go on.”

*

I didn’t think, just acted.

The freezing water hit me like a blow to the chest, it’s biting cold taking my breath away. Every movement felt like torture, my ribs screaming in protest, my arm useless from the pain. It was like the water itself was trying to drag me down into the depths, but I fought against it.

My fingers brushed against something, fabric, then skin, and I grabbed on with everything I had. My muscles were cramping, stiff from the cold, but I kept pushing. My lungs burned as I struggled toward the surface.

When I broke through the water, gasping for air, I heard him behind me, choking on the water. I looked back, but everything was spinning, and I could barely focus. Still, I swam harder, the weight of him making every stroke feel impossible. Eventually, I felt the ground beneath me, the water growing shallower.

I dragged him onto the grass, and collapsed next to him, pulling him close.

No. No, no, no.

A jagged piece of glass was buried deep in his neck. Water dripped from his skin, mixing with the dark, slick blood pooling beneath him.
My stomach lurched. My breath caught. My brain refused to understand what I was seeing.

And then, he choked. A horrible, wet, gasping sound. His fingers twitched against the ice, his wide eyes locking onto mine, desperate and terrified.
Do something!

I didn’t think. My hands moved before my brain could catch up. I grabbed the glass, fingers slipping against the blood, and yanked.

His scream split the air. Oh my God, what did I do?

More blood, too much. Pouring out, hot and fast, soaking through my trembling fingers as I pressed them to the wound.
I don’t know what to do.

“Stay with me,” I begged, my voice breaking. “Please, please just stay awake.”

He coughed again, a horrible, gurgling sound. His lips parted and he choked on his words.
“Ch- Char- Charlott–”
I pressed harder. I wasn’t losing him.

I wouldn’t.
I couldn’t.

*

“Miss Collins! Are you okay?” The officer’s voice broke through the suffocating memory. He had grabbed my shoulder, but I couldn’t focus on him. I couldn’t breathe.

I stumbled away from him, nearly knocking the chair over in my frantic rush. The room was closing in on me, my ribs aching with every movement. I couldn’t get the image out of my head—his blood, his eyes, the screams.

I barely made it to the bathroom before I was on my knees, my hands gripping the sink as I choked. I couldn’t stop the tears, the shaking, the way everything felt too tight, too much.

I stayed there; forehead pressed against the cold porcelain. But closing my eyes didn’t help. Because when I do, I see him.
I see both of them.