Once upon a time... That is how all fairy tales begin. But this is not a fairy tale. This story is not about pretty princesses, nor a prince on a white horse. This story is about a broken family.
This story begins on a dark night with sheepish clouds.
The light pink moon and bright stars are shrouded in ominous rain clouds. Fat drops of rain hit the deserted streets that is dimly lit by iron lanterns. From a distance, the whining sound of a church tower tells you that it is three in the morning. For the rest, there is no sound or living soul to be detected. Seems like a classic night for North Carolina. And yet .. A grim atmosphere rests in the nearby village. The flashing red light, coming from the traffic lights, reflects in the formed puddles.
A black SUV drives slowly to the crossroads. A moment of doubt resists before the car crosses the road. It is in this brief moment of doubt that faith stepped up. The broken streetlights and Destiny... They become a deadly combination. Bright headlights shine in the driver's eyes. When he sees the situation, he finds himself in, it is already too late...
A heavy truck, filled with long logs, hits its left side at high speed. The noisy truck horn sounds, followed by a deafening bang.
While the SUV is pushed a few meters further by the powerful road train, the village residents awaken abruptly. The sounds of scraping metal echo in the dark night. The loud music from breaking glass and iron being pushed together by a great force...
All the dreadful sounds that wake up every soul nearby. Here and there, lights are switched on and window shutters are opened again. A few curious people rush outside in their nightgowns to catch a glimpse of the commotion.
Loud sirens overpower the sound of the Volkswagen's continuous horn. Blue flickering lamps bounce off the brick houses where villagers have gathered. Their gossip and pointed fingers annoy every officer who arrives at the horrific scene. "Man, man" sighs the police chief and shakes his head. He looks at the car wreck while he blows the smoke from his cigar in the dark night. His loyal co-agent whistles between his teeth. "This is going to be nasty!" The police chief looks silently at his aide chief. He was right. This was not going to be an easy job. The towing service might not be here for an hour, and at first glance, it seemed that both drivers were unconscious. The truck rammed into the car, making the driver of the car inaccessible. And then the worst... That horn! The loud horn sounds through the night. It seems like it will never end. "Chief, there are children in here" an officer shout nervously. The chief looks up from his thoughts. "Damn it" he curses. "Where's that ambulance, tell them we need more than two ambulances immediately! And can someone turn off that damn horn" he roars in exasperation. The officers hurry to the hood. They had learned by now that their boss was not easily angry. And if he was, they'd better do what he asked ... ASAP. "Do you know those people" asks the firefighter, noticing the pained look of the police chief. The chief nods in silence. "It is a small village; everyone knows everyone here. But this ... This is different. This car belongs to Ian. My dear comrade. They just had a baby. I'm afraid ... afraid that baby is in that wagon. Tss, I fear the worst. " "Don't give up yet" comforts the firefighter and places his hand on the tormented man's shoulder. The chief sighs and lights his cigarette. He impatiently waits for the passenger door to be broken open. It all takes too long for him. His buddy is injured, perhaps in mortal danger. If he wasn't behind the wheel. He fears for the driver's life. But if his wife was the driver ... Maybe Ian was the driver ... Anyway. They had to hurry. Those children needed both their parents. Why didn't it progress!
He walks around, stomping angrily. Glass creaks under his feet as he paces nervously. He doesn't even feel the cold rain on his skin anymore. He threw the remains of his cigarette into the gutter. It was already his third cigarette. The fire brigade seemed to be having trouble wringing open the wreckage. It was going to take a long time...
As if they had been waiting for that, they shout to remove the passenger door. "Damn Ian" the chief curses when he recognizes the bloody face of Ian. Sighing, he places his face in his hands. He couldn't say for sure if he was relieved to see Ian in the passenger seat. This meant that his wife was in the driver's seat. Katharine .. While the ambulators carefully lift Ian onto the gurney, the chief peeks into the wreckage. There are four children in the back seat. The baby carrier shakes gently through the crying baby. "Hey, come now" the chef soothes and climbs over the blood and glass-covered chair to the infant. Carefully he lifts the infant from the chair and holds her close to his chest." Hush now" he soothes and walks to his car. "It will all be fine, I'll take care of you ... Moanah."