The Car

By popepop

I cover my head with my hands.
A burst of air and adrenaline seems to go right through my body as we hit impact and the car in front of us breaks to pieces.
I scream.
Nothing seems right anymore.
Everything is happening so fast.
Blood splatters on my face.
It's definitely not my own for nothing has hit me or torn my skin-at least not deep enough to release any blood.
More blood.
More blood.
More blood.
"Mom!" I shout. "Dad! Help!"
Tears run down my cheeks when there is no answer from the front of the trashed vehicle I sit in.
I sob and more tears run down my cheeks.
Soon a man comes and pulls me out the vehicle.
His arms are strong and careful with my frail, shaking body.
"Are they okay," I ask him.
He only says, "I'm sorry."
"No!" I cry. "It can't be possible!"
He ignores me and focuses on getting me out of view of my dead parents.

The next day, I get up and out of bed happily. Nightmares happened all through the night while I slept in the hotel room all alone. But I have finally decided what I am going to do.
I run into the mini kitchen. Knives are laid out. Most of them are for butter, but I grab the one that's sharpest.
Have you figured out what I'm going to do yet?

I slowly put on my best clothes, never taking the knife out of my hand. Then I lie in the bed, after unlocking the door. I lie in the bed and rest my head in the most peaceful looking way I can think of. My hand shakes, but I am going to do it.
Then I plunge the knife into my chest, killing myself instantly. Soon, I am with my parents in Heaven.

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