Author: tater22 PM
She's done with trying. It's her only escape. They just don't understand, and probably never will. Warning- Later chapters will contain self harm.Rated: Fiction T - English - Angst/Hurt/Comfort - Chapters: 2 - Words: 1,046 - Reviews: 4 - Follows: 3 - Updated: 07-28-12 - Published: 06-13-12 - id: 3031929
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
The long grass sweeps the bottom of her thigh, making her shift uncomfortably. The wind picks up slightly and the hot sun beats down on her like a drum. The birds chirp softly in the distance and the ducks quack happily in the pond.
She blinks back annoyance at the cheerful noise and tries desperately to block them out. Why do they get to be carefree without anything to bother them or pick on them about the way they look?
The breeze circles her body and her long, chestnut hair flaps carelessly around her. She scowls at the forming knot and rolls her eyes at everything around her.
Casting a glance at the stone in front of her, her heart immediately drops into her stomach. She silently reads the words to herself, tears building up behind her big, emerald, green eyes.
She traces her finger along the date, the tears now spilling from her eyes and running down her puffy cheeks. It happened on this day, two years before, but the pain is still fresh.
She wipes the flowing water works away with the back of her hand and sniffles loudly. The birds and the ducks quiet down in unison but she's too involved with staring at the grave of her older sister to notice.
It happened exactly in three hours at the corner of Lakeshore and Moongrove Street. They were both in the car laughing and listening to music, completely oblivious to the enormous change that would happen in only a few moments.
Kirsten, her sister, was driving her and herself to the theater to watch the new release of The Lion King. She pulled out of the stop sign to get rammed by a drunk driver in the driver's side.
The Volkswagen spun out into the ditch from the brutal impact, rolling over countless times.
She hadn't been wearing a seatbelt.
She left the world in a horrifying way, being flung through the window shield, her little sister watching. It was an image that would never leave the younger girls mind.
The rough stone pricks Angel's finger as she stroked it lovingly. "If only you were still here," she whispers to the dying flowers, "If only I had you to talk to things would be so much better. But don't worry; I'll be with you soon."
She gets up suddenly, a single thought etched into her mind. She walks quickly to her car, her feet scraping the grass with a faint swish.
She gets in, wipes the tears from her eyes and drives away hastily, not looking at anything, but the clear, open road.