How to Save A Life..

The Fault In Our Stars Competition Entry!

When Zach and Tara met, it was magic.
They've been dating for 4 years now, and they're both 17.
But Tara has cancer. And she's been told she probably won't live for much longer. They live hours away, and Zach is in care, but he leaves his carehome to live homeless on the streets in Dover, 4 hours away from his hometown, just to be with Tara for her last year. A touching story of love, loss, and death.

Based on the song "How To Save A Life" by The Fray.

Please like, favourite and comment to help me win, thank you so much!x

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4. Crime

The car is slipping down the sunlit streets when a siren whirs behind us. Alf's eyes flick to the rearview mirror, and he grumbles. "Oh, crap, just my luck." He presses his foot harder on the peddles, and the car gains speed. I turn my head and look through the back window. The police are tailing us!

"Alf, pull over, see what they want!" I say, looking into his wrinkled eyes which are fixed on the road ahead.

"I know what they bloody want," he spits, his tone no longer kind and unfriendly. His face is dark and wrinkled, his eyes like stone and his lips are curled into a scowl. It's as if a mask has just been lifted.

"Alf..." My voice qauvers and I feel my teeth chatter. Not because it's cold, in fact it's boiling. But because I'm scared. My hand hovers over the break. "Pull over or I'll slam the breaks."

Alf's dark eyes slit into mine. "Do that and you'll be taking a bloody ambulance to the hospital, pal."

My mouth twitches. "What do they want?" I whisper.

"Me!" Alf declares. He breaks into a mad laugh, and it scares me slightly. "They want me!" His face looks insane, and he's no longer concentrating on the road. Laughing viciously, he pulls a cigarrette from his jacket pocket, one limp hand merely resting on the wheel. He places the unlit cigarette between thin, chapped lips, which crack into a grin. He reaches for a lighter, but I get there first, my hands slamming over it.

"Alf!" I cry. "Who really are you?! One minute your kind and friendly, now you're the complete opposite!" My voice drowns in the whir of multiple sirens. "The bloody police are after us- you! After you!"

He ignores me, and a bang rips through the air and the car tips to one side, limping along the road. "They've gone and shot the bloody tires those bastards!"

I flinch at his language, even though I know mine isn't perfectly well either. The punctured tires allow the police to catch up, and Alf throws his hands into the air, letting the car slide to a stop. "What's the point even trying?! I knew it was gunna happen someday or another!"

A police man, eyes covered by black shades knocks on the windows, and I suddenly realise that they're tinted. My eyebrows flick up. Alf sighs and rolls the window down the old fashioned way, spinning down a little lever until the police man's head is poking into the car.

"Get out the car now," he says gruffly. "Richard Bairns, you're under arrest." I look over my shoulder. Richard Bairns? The only two people here are me and Alf...then it all clicks. "Alf" thrusts open the door, the police man stumbling backwards. I do so to, getting out, queerying wether to raise my hands in surrender or not.

"What took you so long?" "Alf" teases, a smirk playing at his lips. More police men surround us. I feel a strong hand weigh down my shoulder, and I wince, looking up at a tall man, a yellow police vest pulled over a bulletproof jacket.

"Who're you?" he grumbles.

"Zach Peterson," I whisper. He looks me up and down, then runs his hands along the side of my body. It's uncomfortable, and I shake him off.

"Got sum'in't' hide?" He growls. I shake my head.

"No sir."
"Then le'me search you."

I squeeze my eyes shut while the man feels up and down my body, then open them when he nods to another officer.

"All clear."

A kind police man notices my bewildered face and fills me in.

"What are you doing in the car with this man, boy?" he starts.

"He offered me a lift to the hospital, my girlfriend is..." I swallow, "...dying."

His eyes soften. "I'm sorry. But you do realise that Richard is a murderer."

Oh.My.God. I've just been in a car with a murderer. I gulp.

"He's...n-not called Alf then.." I say sheepishly, feeling silly for falling for such lies. The officer chuckles and shakes his head. "If I were you I'd get away now, before the rest of the crew think you've been up to something."

I nod, and give Alf..-Richard one last glance. It's then that I notice the gun stuffed in his pockets in the faded baggy denim jeans. It's then that I realise I was bait. If it wasn't for the police, I would've been shot dead.

 

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