Everything started because of the car wreck. Imagine having a car accident in the mountains, on a dusty road that winds its way towards the only known civilization for miles around. Everything turned out okay, except, Jonah was there and he changed everything by pulling me off that ledge.

“Eleanor Janice Thompson!”

Uh-oh, I thought. It was the full name. How many kids heard that being yelled up the stairs by their parents? She even used my middle name. Not good, whatever it was.

“Yes, mom?” I said timidly, poking my head through the banister railings and looking at my mother who was standing in the middle of the living room with her hands on her hips, her face set in a disapproving manner.

“Don’t give me that innocent tone!” She snapped.

It was rather difficult to be serious with my mother when her hair was in curlers and her bathrobe was draped over her bony frame. And especially with that green-ish facial cream…yeah, in other words, it was nearly impossible to keep a smile on my face.

“What’s the matter, mom?” I asked, remaining behind the safety of the stairwell bars. Personally, it reminded me of prison bars and, considering that the mask she was wearing was tinged with red, I would be lucky to end up there, but, I overreact too quickly.

“I hear that your sister is having a crisis and you brush her off.” My mother said.

Even I couldn’t resist an eye roll. My big sister, Jessica-Marie Thompson, was the biggest Drama Queen the world as ever seen. She’s worse than the girly girl you see on TV. She doesn’t shriek when she breaks a nail, she breaks glasses with her scream. And why do I care if she’s having a “crisis”? Which, by the way, could be anything from she couldn’t find her favorite nail polish or her best friend borrowed her beanie cap. The worst part of this was that my mom and my sister were on the same level…except my mother was older and had more responsibilities. Actually, anyone who had to do anything had more responsibilities than my sister.

“She is your sister and should be treated with kindness when she is in the middle of a breakdown!” My mother continued. “I want to you to apologize.”

“Mom, why should I apologize to her when she wouldn’t do the same to me? Shouldn’t I be treated with kindness as well?” I stopped at the look on my mother’s face. Apparently not. Instead of feeling angry as I trudged up the steps and up to the room my sister used at the summer house, I felt completely hopeless. My parents always sided with Jessica and they never gave me a chance. Even if I got straight A’s…no response except, “That’s great honey,” in that dull tone that clearly meant they weren’t paying attention.

I knocked twice on my sister’s door. I heard the sobbing of Mrs. President before the wooden door was whipped open to reveal my seventeen-year-old, slightly—no, overly paranoid sister dressed in the latest fashion. So…please kill me now!

“What do you want?” She yelled at me. Just to annoy her, I tilted my head to one side with an innocent look that I had perfected in the mirror several years ago. This drove my sister up the wall. “Go away, freak!”

I shrugged. “Okay,” I said. I didn’t want to stay around her any longer than I had to. I’d probably end up killing myself if we were locked up together before she talked my ears off. I was nearly to my bedroom door when my sister yelled, “Mom, Eleanor’s bothering me!”

I glared down the hallway at my sister. She was so unfair!

“Eleanor!” My mother called from downstairs. 

“Mom,” I whined. “You told me to apologize but she told me to go away and I did!”

“Eleanor Janice, in your room now!”

I entered my bedroom, which was exactly what I was planning to do, and slammed the door just to give the impression that I was angry. I wasn’t. My bedroom at the summer house was the best ever. It was all polished wood with a large queen sized bed in the corner and all wooden furniture. I had brought my dome chair this time and a few carpets. Pictures littered the wall. All of them had a story to tell: I saw the one where I caught my first fish…and the one where my sister fell in the mud (love that one and plan to use it as a black-mail when needed) and then there’s one with me and my best friend, Beth.

At the thought of Beth, I sighed and went over to my window, peering outside and looking across the glistening river to the other three-story house. Just in case, I waved. Beth’s bedroom window faced my own, so we tried to send messages to each other via flashlights at night.

The sun felt good on my dark head. The wind whistled through the trees surrounding the river and I could hear nothing except the birds. It was sheer paradise. It was a relief to get away from the bustling city and into the mountains where you didn’t wake up to the sound of blaring horns.

At that moment, my laptop trilled. Excited, I went over and sat down in my desk chair, seeing who had e-mailed me.

To: RustySilver225

From: LuckyPup4

Ellie—want to go to town today with me and my older bro? We can chat with Darcy too. Hurry up and reply. I saw you wave.

I grinned and wrote back:

From: RustySilver225

Sure. My mom’s mad at me cause of a stupid thing involving Jessica but…I’m sure I can go. I’ll meet you at Ducks Cross in five minutes.

Exactly seven minutes later, I met up with Beth Michaels. She was four months younger than I was so she wouldn’t turn fifteen until September. She was my height, for which I was thankful. Having tall friends could be a drag sometimes. We could pass off as sisters except she had brilliant blond hair and I had dull brown.

“Ellie, about time!” She said as I came into sight. I saw that Adam was with her. Adam was seventeen and pretty cool considering he’d willingly go to the small town located a few miles from the nearest development with his younger sister and best friend.

“Hey, Ells.” He greeted me.

“Adam.” I said curtly. I punched him on the shoulder as well. This time; however, there was more resistance. I poked his arm where his muscle was located. I looked at him. “You’ve been working out.”

“You better believe it. Now I’m free to punch you back!” He said, making a swipe at me. I ducked and ran off after Beth, who had taken flight towards her brother’s truck. I leaped in the back way ahead of the seventeen-year-old and had already caught my breath when he arrived.

“Ha!” I said triumphantly. “Can still beat anyone in this area.”

Adam rolled his eyes and got in the truck. Beth and I gripped the side as he sped off with unnecessary speed. Beth banged on the window separating them. “Hey ya bozo, slow down!” She bellowed at him.

At this, Adam just sped up. I rolled my eyes at Beth, who smirked at me and continued to bang on the fake glass. I simply laughed at her attempts, knowing that it was useless. 

The road down to Fort Herrington was practically straight with only one turn. The only thing about this road is that you can’t swerve to avoid something like a deer. You have to completely stop or else you’ll go right off the mountain side. It’s a straight drop through the canyon and when we first came here when I was six; it scared the life out of me. I used to have dreams about falling off and never finding an end to it.

Adam was slowing down since we were in most danger of falling off. I finally relaxed but I was still clutching the side of the truck. I looked up front, brushing my hair out of my face, and saw that there was nothing ahead of us.

I was wrong.

Adam suddenly wrenched the wheel of the car sideways and my breath was immediately trapped in my lungs. Remember what I said about how you couldn’t swerve to not hit anything because you were so close to the edge? Yeah…

Beth and I screamed as the two left tires went over the lip of the canyon. The truck was turning and I saw Adam leaping out of the driver’s seat and bellowing at us to do the same. Everything else was a blur of color. Beth grabbed a handful of Adam’s shirt and pulled herself to safety. I made it…barely.

I was holding on by my elbows as the trunk spiraled downward. The mountain rocks dug into my skin as I scrambled to get off the ledge. I couldn’t breathe as I was trying to pull myself up from an eternal death as my mother liked to call it. Within seconds; however, Beth and Adam were by my side, in a sense, and Adam had hold of my arms.

I let out a scream as I slipped a little. Adam had loosened his grip just a bit. I was now hanging on by my hands, like they do in the movies. In the movies, though, you always know the person gets saved. Here, there was a lot of doubt. I made every promise I could to God if he could just get me out of this alive.

I dunno if he took mercy on me or what, but next second, I was being hauled upwards and I collapsed, coughing and breathing hard, onto the hard earth. I realized I was being held tightly around the waist and the even more blinding realization that it was a guy…and it wasn’t Adam.

Personally, at the moment, I didn’t care. As long as the guy wasn’t going to throw me right back off this cliff. I was surrounded by people…or at least I think I was. I distinctly heard the crash of the trunk which meant that it had successfully slammed into the pit. 

I was talking…I think. I may have been a blubbering idiot but it was so difficult to remember. The only thing I felt was my own heartbeat and the heat of somebody else’s body. Yeah, weird to say, but true nonetheless. It was strange how I was leaning back onto the person’s chest, totally oblivious. But I was in complete shock. I had escaped death. For the first time in my life, I had had a near-death experience. Hopefully, I wouldn’t have another one until I was ninety-one.

And then, out of the others, I heard a different voice. It was calm and soothing unlike the rush of Adam’s and Beth’s. Even now, I have no idea what the voice said. Hell, it could have been God’s voice for all I knew. But what I do know is that it calmed me completely, making me relax in the arms of my rescuer.

Yeah, I know it sounds all so cliché but hey, if you get my drift of what was happening, does it really matter? I mean, here I am: being plucked out of the jaws of death by someone whom I have never met and might never see again and I might be hearing the voice of God calling to me! Strange, right?

After that, I just remember getting up, making sure I had no broken bones, and walking back to the house where my parents found out and I was put immediately to bed, where I daydreamed about the person who had pulled me off that cliff. I didn’t remember what he looked like, everything was a blur. I might have called out to him once or twice, but I don’t think he turned at the sound of my voice.

My mother was the worst. She was crying when she heard my story and wouldn’t let go of me for half and hour. My father was stony, like fathers are supposed to be and my sister simply walked out of the room when she heard I had almost died. I think she rolled her eyes. Sisters.