One Minute; By: Anonymous

We were driving, my best friend Lace and I. Well I was driving. She was fixing her make-up with the car mirror as we sung along to the Taylor Swift song playing on the radio.

It was a special day: my nineteenth birthday. Ah my special extravagant present was a car! I’d been begging for one since I got my drivers permit at fourteen, but I didn’t get one then. Neither did I get one at my sweet sixteen, not even for graduation.

I wasn’t expecting one this year; my dream of someone buying a car for me died long ago. Though I guess sometimes the unexpected happens.

“Crap!” said Lace.

“What?” I said, turning on my blinker.

“I dropped my lip gloss, its right under you foot, hand it to me” she ordered at me. I guess lip gloss is important.

I reached for it, bending down. I then heard Lace scream “Watch out!”. After that I felt the car crash into us hard, flipping our car. It just kept flipping; me and Lace screamed. Not one of those screams when you ride a carnival ride or your little brother goes “boo!” at you. This was a scream that was screamed when you know it was over. When you know there’s no way to save yourself. The scream of death.

It finally stopped flipping. We stood still, rocking only a bit. I cough from the car exhaust or whatever that was. I screamed when I tried to move my definitely broken arm. And I cried as I looked at the blood on Lace’s head and her unmoving body.

I screamed for her to wake up, as I yelled for help. I shook her, helplessly. I cried, I cried, and I cried. We were upside down, and if I was thinking about how nauseous I was, I would have thrown up.

I cringed as I moved my broken arm to unbuckle my seatbelt. I fell a bit. I struggled to push open the door. It just kept falling back on me. Finally I pushed it hard enough, though I let out quite a scream.

I fell to the road, as glass, rocks and everything else stabbed and poked me. The road was deserted. My life now changed forever. What life? It’s all over now. I then laid on the glassy ground and went to sleep, hoping it was but a dream.

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Posted on March 7, 2012, in Anonymous, Stories. Bookmark the permalink. Leave a comment.

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