I woke to the sound of my mum screaming….
I jumped out of bed and ran down the hallway to see my dad standing beside their bed , with my mum sitting in bed with an anguished screaming cry coming from her saying the words “NO NO NO ” !!
My dad turned to me and said “Mark’s died”. He reached out and drew me into his chest pulled me onto the bed so he could hold myself and my mum in his arms .
Sitting there sobbing I kept on saying “are you sure ” are you sure” ….”it can’t be “?
I will never forget the look on my dads face as he explained. The police have rung “it’s Mark ” and I have to go to the hospital to identify him .
I walk back to my room to break the news to my best friend who had come to say for the long weekend . I go to walk past my brothers room and stand there looking at his empty unmade bed .I stood there thinking …. “He’s never coming home ” .
I turn to catch the fearful look in my friends eyes , as though she knew before me even telling her .
That day I remember the people coming -so many people ….. There were tears -so many tears….. And those words ” I’m sorry ” would ring in my ears for weeks .
So many question of “Why” “How”??
He had been at the Trayning Pub that night drinking with friends . He was meant to sleep at a friends house , But for some reason he tried to drive home .
To this day we don’t know what caused the accident , so many factors to think about , whether it was speed , alcohol , inattention or fatigue . These are thoughts I still think about to this day . All we know is he came around a corner hit a tree and didn’t survive.
So you may be wondering why I am writing this story ..?
It is to draw attention to a symbol -an elephant made up of pieces of cars , symbolising all the deaths on country roads in the Wheatbelt .
This symbol is the face of the “Elephant in the Wheatbelt ” campaign , designed to increase awareness of a problem and to get people talking about ways to reduce the high number of fatalities in the area that I call home .
My beautiful cheeky blonde-haired blued eyed brother was one of those deaths . He was only 19 years old .
My best friend is gone and a piece of me missing , I live with the pain of his absence every single day and I don’t want you or anyone else to experience the agony of losing a loved one like this .
This story is not a easy one to tell – the memories it brought back tore me apart inside and the pain it makes me feel cuts deep to my core .
So if I can reach just one person by telling my story and it makes a difference in the way you drive or someone you care about drives ,then to me it was worth telling my story .
These are words that pop into my head when I find myself speeding ” Your better to get there late …. than not at all “!
It mite save someone’s life , but most of all it mite save yours !