He always woke up afterwards. If he could wake up in the middle, he could stop the other. But it was always after, and it was always him that had to confront the damage done. The girl was young, maybe sixteen, and very inappropriately dressed. Her shorts barely covered her tanned buttocks; her shirt was tied at the ribs and cut low, exposing what there was of her developing cleavage. She had been wearing make-up, although as she died her tears had drained the colours down her cheeks. She was pretty. If she had lived, she would have likely grown into a beautiful woman. A heartbreaker. A w***e.
Jan sat back in the grass, piecing together the hours he had lost. His knowledge of events was coming back to him, like memories, only they weren"t his memories. He could see the girl walking down th
