A/N: Hello fans! I am sorry that I have not updated in forever, but here is a new story. It is about a young woman who has everything she could ask for. She is captain of the soccer team, has a great boyfriend, and two great parents. Then she and her mom get in a car accident. What happens after???

“Great job at the game today, honey. Your dad would be so proud of you. I am sure he would love to hear about it when he gets home from work tonight.”

“Thanks, Mom,” I said as a smile spread across my lips. We drove past the local park with little kids playing, past the skateboard arena, and down tree-lined streets. Beautiful houses with large front porches, and large back yards past to my right and left. There were not a lot of cars on the road since it was still early in the evening. The sun hadn't set yet, but it would in the next hour or so. My mind wandered as we continued driving towards the intersection right by our house.

The score was tied at one. My black cleats pounded the green grass as I ran down the field. I could feel the sweat of my hard work on my red jersey, with the number seven in white on the back. ‘Duffy’ was written in the same color across my shoulder blades. My teammate passed me the ball, and as I dribbled it down the field, I was looking ahead- to the goal. The other team’s goalie was watching me as I got closer. Her hands were up in front of her, and she was shifting her weight, ready for whatever I would send her way. I brought my leg back and sent the ball into the air. The goalie jumped with her hands above her head; the ball went into the goal. I raised my own hands above my head in celebration. A few seconds later, the referee blew the whistle, ending the game. My teammates ran over to me, congratulating me on the goal. I shrugged off the praise, as if it was no big deal, but inside I was beaming with pride. I knew that I had earned my title as Captain.

“Kaylin!” I heard my mom yell, forcing me back to the present. I heard the brakes and tires squealing against the dark pavement. I heard the harsh sound of metal clashing against metal. It took me a second to realize that another car was crashing into us. The sound of glass shattering into a thousand tiny pieces filled my ears. I turned my head quickly, and saw my mom cover her face as the sharp pieces rained down on her.

I screamed loudly. I don’t know if it was out of panic or fear, but I didn't move; I couldn't. I was petrified. I stared straight ahead of me and watched as the sun reflected off the cars that had stopped. A tall woman with a black sweater and blue jeans on got out of her car. She pulled her cell phone out of her pocket and I watched her dial 9-1-1. She spoke quickly to the operator, and then hung up. She caught my eye, and a sad smile appeared on her face, saying that everything would be okay.

I couldn’t hear anything. I didn’t know if my mom was alive or not. All I knew was that my right arm was swelling quickly, and I could smell a lot of smoke. I wasn't sure if it was coming from our Honda Civic, or the black car that ran into us, but I knew that couldn't be good. The metallic smell of blood filled my nose as I sat in silence, waiting for the sirens. My fear grew while I waited. I wanted my arm to stop hurting. It was throbbing, and all I wanted to do was scream about the pain. I wanted my mom to say something- to make everything better. I wanted to know if the other driver was okay. I wanted to go back in time and prevent the crash from happening.

I finally heard the sirens blaring as they raced down the streets, and instantly felt my body relax. I hadn’t even noticed that I was tense. I saw emergency workers rush around the accident site, already knowing their plan of action. Police officers started directing traffic, while the others immediately came to us.

I turned my head when I felt a light breeze hit me. The passenger door was open and a tall man with dark hair was crouched down beside the car.

I looked at the young guy in front of me. "Is my mom okay? What about the other driver?" I asked with concern.

"Why don't you tell me your name first," he suggested.

I nodded. "Kaylin."

“Hello Kaylin. My name is Mark. Can you tell me how old you are, and where you go to school?”

“Seventeen. I go to Roth High School.” I took a deep breath, trying to remain calm. “Is my mom okay? Is the other driver okay?”

“Why don’t we worry about you first?” he asked with a smile.

I nodded, still worried about the others.

"Alright. First, does anything hurt?”

I nodded again. “My right arm. It feels like it’s broken.”

“What about your neck or your back? Are those okay?”

"Yeah, I think so.”

“Excellent. I am going to unbuckle you, and then we are going to get you out of the car, okay?”

“Okay,” I said as Mark reached over to unbuckle my seatbelt. He slipped a neck brace around my neck to stabilize it until I got to the hospital. With another emergency worker's help, the two of them placed me on a stretcher and into the waiting ambulance.

"Is my mom okay?" I asked on the drive to the hospital. I didn't get an answer, so a few minutes later I asked again. There was still no response. I silently groaned and closed my eyes.

I could hear the siren of the ambulance as we drove toward the emergency room. Mark and the other guy (whose name I still hadn't gotten) were radioing into the hospital about the accident.

"We have a seventeen year old female. Only apparent injury is a broken arm. We are en route now."

"Copy that."

Is my mom okay? I thought with my eyes still closed. The image of Mom covering her face as the broken glass shards fell down on her replayed in my head. The sound of her screaming my name echoed as we sped along the road.

When we arrived at the hospital a few minutes later, Mark opened the back doors, and the two guys lifted me out. I squinted my eyes against the setting sun as I was wheeled inside. Meanwhile, Mark was filling in one of my nurses about the accident and basic information about me.

I was brought to a room and taken off the stretcher. I looked around the small room. White walls surrounded me, which reflected the reds, oranges, and yellows of the setting sun.

"Hello Kaylin," a sweet voice said. "My name is Annie, and I will be taking care of you while you are here. Do you have any questions?"

"Is my mom okay?" I asked for what felt like the hundredth time that evening.

"I don't know. But I will see what I can find out for you," she replied with a smile.

I nodded.

"Now, I am going to do a quick exam just to check you over..." Her voice trailed off as she pulled her stethoscope from around her neck and listened to my heart. "And take a deep breath." She listened for a few seconds. "Good. Now exhale slowly.... Excellent." She made a note in my chart. "Are you experiencing any pain, Kaylin?"

"My arm hurts, but other than that, no."

She nodded and wrote something else down. "Once I am done, I will take you to x-ray. Can you say 'ahhh' for me?"

I opened my mouth wide and stuck my tongue out. After Annie checked my pulse, blood pressure, eyes, ears, and a few other things, I was brought down to x-ray.

The technician put a heavy lead apron on me and then he positioned my arm under a machine that looked like a big camera lens. Once the camera was in place, the technician left the room, and took some pictures of my arm. When the pictures were done, he came back and the two of us talked about school and soccer until the pictures had developed.

"Yup, it's broken," he said looking at the x-rays. "You are going to need a cast, so I will notify the orthopedic surgeon..." The man left me again, this time, taking my x-rays with him.

I was brought back to my hospital room, and a while later, the orthopedic doctor came in, who led me to a small room down the hall. I got up on the table, while the doctor looked at my x-rays.

"Kaylin, it looks like you broke your arm in two places. Here," he said pointing to a place on the picture, "and here. First, I am going to clean your arm and then I am going to wrap the area in cotton. After that, I will place wet strips of fiberglass around the cotton, which will harden as it dries. Do you have a particular color in mind?"

"Do you have red?" I asked, wanting it to match our school colors.

"Of course," he said with a smile.

Once my cast was in place and dry, I was brought back to my room. I turned the TV on, and was flipping through the channels when Annie came in to check on me.

"Do you know anything about my mom, yet?" I asked taking my eyes away from the uninteresting television program.

"Not yet," she replied. Annie crossed the room and sat down on the edge of my bed. "How're you doing?"

"Okay," I replied lifting up my cast. "'Cept for this heavy thing."

"You get used to it. And, it only has to stay on for six weeks..." We sat in silence for a minute, and then Annie said, "I just talked to your dad. He should be here soon."

"Thanks Annie."

When my dad got to the hospital, Annie showed him to my room. For a couple of minutes, he stood in the doorway, leaning against the doorframe.

“Hi Dad," I said glad to see a face I recognized.

"Hi Kaylin," he said coming over to the bed. He wrapped me in a tight hug. "Thank God you're okay."

"Dad..." I dropped my eyes to the white sheet that covered my lap.

"What honey?"

"Is Mom okay? No one is answering me, and I need to know..."

Dad ran a hand through his graying hair. He pursed his lips and blew air from between them. He stuffed his hands into the pockets of his jeans and leaned back on his heels. I watched as he rocked back and forth for a few seconds, and then he stood still and looked at me. "Your mother," he said slowly, "didn't make it. I'm so sorry, honey."

I bit my lower lip to keep from bursting into tears. I wanted to stay strong for my dad, just like he was for me. It didn't help. I felt the familiar feeling of sadness sweep over my body, and my eyes well up with tears. I sniffled as a tear rolled down my cheek. I quickly brushed it away.

Dad embraced me into another warm hug, but I pushed him away; I didn't want his sympathy.

"Don't," I said as another tear escaped, leaving its wet, salty trail behind. "I need... I need time..."

How did this happen? A few hours ago, Mom and I were celebrating my winning goal, and now... I didn't even want to think about it. I just wanted to wake up from this dream. But, I knew this wasn't a dream. This is reality. I noticed my dad had migrated over to the window, and looked out to the darkened sky. Lights from the street shone into the small room.

We were both silent, thinking about the past, the present, and the future. Everything is going to be different now, I thought.

---

The next week was a blur. Dad made the funeral arrangements, while I sat in my room. I didn't want to talk to anyone, or see anyone. I just wanted to be left alone. During that week, Dad and I barely spoke to one another, as we both went about our own business. He went to work and came home and then made dinner, while I went to school.

I went to my classes, and did what I had to, but I stopped putting in a lot of effort, and I stopped playing soccer. I felt that if I continued living my life, I would forget about her, and lose her forever. For that week, I came home from school, put in minimal effort on my homework, ate dinner with Dad, and went to bed early.

I knew that he was worried about me, but at the time, I didn't realize that he was hurting just as much as I was, if not more. All I knew was that my mom wasn't going to be there when I graduated high school or college. She wasn't going to be there when I got married and had my own family. She was just a memory.

---

A few weeks later, I was sitting in my AP Calculus class, watching the rain fall outside. The weather hadn't been cooperating lately, which wasn't helping. If anything, it was making things worse, and making me even more depressed.

"...And when I pass back your quizzes," Ms. Limasao was saying, "I would like you to look over your mistakes." She started walking around the room, handing them out. I watched the rain continue to pour out of the sky until the white paper landed on the desk in front of me.

I flipped it over and looked at the red-letter grade at the top. F. On the side was a note written in the same red ink: Kaylin, this is not your usual standard. Is there anything I can help you with? Let me know- Ms. L. I stuffed the quiz into my binder. Nothing seemed to be going well lately....

"Kaylin," Eric shouted down the hall. I turned to look at him, and waited as he caught up to me.

"What?" I asked, continuing to walk towards my next class.

"I think we need to talk sometime," he said hesitantly.

"Alright. Well, what about now?"

"Now?"

I nodded.

"O-kay," Eric said, slowly running a hand through his brown hair. "I think we should take a break for a while..."

I looked up at him. "Eric..."

"Kaylin, I'm sorry. I really am. But ever since... you haven't been the same."

"What do you mean?" I asked, taking a step back.

He took a breath. "Kaylin, you quit playing soccer."

"You're breaking up with me because I quit playing soccer...?"

He shook his head. "You're different now... You avoid your friends, you never want to hang out with me, and your dad told me that you hardly speak to him."

"Oh." I bit my lower lip to keep myself from crying.

Eric put a finger under my chin and tilted my head so I could see him. "I'm sorry."

I shrugged, making it seem like no big deal. "It's okay. I understand." Underneath, though, I didn't understand. I had lost my mother. Was I just supposed to forget that and pretend it never happened?

He smiled. "So, I'll see you around then?"

"Yeah, see you around."

---

I went home that night and, as usual, went up to my room. But, this time, it wasn't to sulk in depression. It was to think about everything that had happened in the past month. First, I was voted captain of the varsity soccer team, and then I scored the winning goal at one of our biggest games.

Then, before I knew it, Mom and I were in an accident. I broke my arm; she didn't survive. My life wouldn't be the same again. I realized that I had changed my attitude about life and when I stopped playing soccer, I stopped caring about anything. My life was different; I made it different. I let my mother's death affect the way I was living my life, and it took a break up and a bad grade for me to realize that.

That night up in my room, I realized I was not the person that I used to be; I was not the person that I wanted to be.

(A/N: Please tell me what you thought! I wrote this for my creative writing class, and I am very interested to find out what all of you think about it! So, good or bad, please review! And for those of you looking for Unforgettable, I promise that I will try and update soon- maybe over Thanksgiving!)