Working on the novel now. It started with seeing a guy tear past in his car in Portsmouth, two girls tried to reach the pavement, the first did, the second was carried 20 yards on his bonnet, he hit the brakes, her body rolled down, he drove over her like a speed bump. I ran over, in shock I brushed the hair from her forehead till I got told to leave her alone. I went to throw up at the side of the road. When shock wore off I saw the driver heald by 2 bouncers. I went back to my hotel. The bar girl I had been chatting to earlier that evening said I should go give evidence. I know only 6 people, tops could have seen yet when I got to a copper he had overe 50 who had 'seen'. Why had they pretended? I went back to my hotel. I fell in to a deep sleep. At 3am a female copper came for my story. The guy got off. The dead girls parents brought a second civil case. I gave evidence.
What struck me was how all who saw the event saw different things. Only 6 could have seen yet 50 odd came forward with descriptions of the events. My book is about how we all saw different things. I saw the driver hit her, carry her 20 yards on his bonnet, stop, she rolled off, he then accelerated over her body, maybe she was dead already, then he pulled up 20 yards further down the road. I just ran to the victim. After professionals had got things under control I threw up at the side of the road, her young body was twisted and torn out of aesthetic proportion. When I came round I couldnt work out why or where the driver was being heald. As I walked back to the hotel I saw her trainers a good 25 yards further back than they should have been. I sat alone in the park watching foxes raiding bins.
My book is about how all 6 witnesses saw totally different things. The CCTV cameras saw a totalk bunch of lies. Strange how reality is no fixed medium.
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