Just An Accident

I just…don’t know how it happened.  I just don’t.  One minute I’m about to make myself dinner, and then…

Even though my head and my stomach hurt, I need to write something down.  Damn.  Too fuzzy.  I’ll just use…this…

My parents are out at a party my dad’s company is throwing.  My big sister is at work, and my little brother is staying at a friend’s house tonight.  He’ll be back tomorrow, on Christmas Eve.  Oh no, oh please no.

I didn’t mean for this to happen.  I didn’t want to go right before Christmas.  I wanted to see my sister’s expression when she opens her presents on the last Christmas before she goes to college.  I wanted to see my brother squeal when he opened my gift—the game he wanted for so long.

I was happy.  I didn’t have anything to be depressed about.  My grades were good.  I just got a new girlfriend.  My siblings and I had fun together.  We had a good life.

God, why?  I didn’t do anything wrong…did I?  What did I do to do this to myself?

I was just going to have sausage, cheese, and crackers.  I just tripped.  I didn’t know knives could hurt so much.

My legs are going numb.  I was sitting on the ground anyway.  My hands are shaking, and I can barely write my message.  Oh, damn, this stings.

The cordless phone is somewhere.  I can’t call anyone.  Even if I found the phone, it’d be too late.  Black’s coming in on my vision.

I never thought that I’d go like this…or so soon.  But, that’s how everyone thinks.  I’m not so scared as I am worried.  Everyone’s going to be so sad.  I hope Jen doesn’t repeat my little problem.

I can’t focus anymore.  My eyes hurt.  From what I can see, my hands are really pale.  I’m coughing red, and I can’t help but smirk weakly.

Everyone always wonder what it’s like on the edge of death’s door.  I could say, but I’m too tired.  It’s hard to keep my eyes open.  It’s hard to keep breathing.

I’ve got to write one more thing.  Just one.  Just…

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Sarah Kelly shut the front door to her house and locked it behind her.  She let out a sigh, rubbing her green eyes with a weary smile.  Another week, another paycheck, was her creed.

“Hey, Anne, you better not have destroyed anything!” she called in a teasing tone.  Music was playing, meaning Anne had been having dinner.  Sarah kicked off her black shoes and pulled her red over-shirt off, revealing her cooler gray t-shirt.  It had been a rough day, but it was all right.  Christmas Eve and Christmas would be given off, and those were worth the hard day’s work.

“Do you have anything I can steal for a start of my dinner?” Sarah jogged up the stairs to get into the kitchen and at some food.  She was hungry.

“Anne?” Sarah was confused at the quiet.  Maybe her little sister was concentrating on some kind of mushy love letter to her girlfriend, Jennifer.  “Anne, where are you?”  Anne also had a habit of leaving the CD player running.

“Anne, come on!” Sarah said, coming ever closer to the kitchen, “You’ve always been bad at hide-and-seek!  Just come out already!”

She rounded the corner into the kitchen.  Her eyes widened to the point of where one could see whites all round.  Her red shirt slipped from her hands and Sarah stood frozen.

Anne was sitting limp against the drawers, blood everywhere.  In front of the frightfully pale girl was blood, what seemed like gallons to Sarah’s terrified eyes.

“Oh my god!” Sarah dropped to her knees and shuffled to her sister, “Anne!  ANNE!  Anne, please, open your eyes!  Please!”

And, miraculously, Anne did.  Her gray eyes were barely visible, because she couldn’t open her eyes very much.  Sarah put her arm behind her sister’s shoulder, lifting her up from the hard wood drawers.

“Oh, god, Anne, what happened?” she whispered.  Anne swallowed shallowly, looked toward the red on the floor, and pointed a shaking finger.  Sarah looked and read the blood.  Tears welled in her eyes and she looked back at Anne.

Anne’s eyes slowly closed, and her hand fell.

“ANNE!”

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It was the second day of the New Year when Anne Kelly was buried.  It was snowing that day.

Once everyone else had left, Jennifer ‘Jen’ Rotan lingered.  She knelt by the dirt that was being covered by the soft snowfall.  Tears streamed down her cheeks as she read the words on her lover’s grave.  The words under all the usual things of name and lifetime where those that Anne had written in her own blood.

It was just an accident.

I could see anything.

end