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.
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.
"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.