I was all alone, just like I was two weeks ago.
I clenched the grass beneath me, feeling angry and sorrow, ripping up the grass. My eyes warned me that tears were about to fall so I quickly wiped away my tears.
"Two weeks ago was hell." I quietly mutter to myself.
The wind hissed blowing my long dark brown hair. It felt so good. I missed that. I missed being outside. I missed all of my friends. I needed somebody.
Five years ago, my parents dropped this major horrific bomb on me. We're moving, to a town called Phoenix with a population less than 234 people. It was one of those safe towns. In a way when you're there, it feels as if you are in the 1950's. It doesn't even belong to a state! It is just sorta there.
At first I was excited about it but then my dad dropped another major bomb. The town was full of boys. Boys that were around my age but older than me. He said all of the boys in this town were trouble makers. Stealing, having sex. I was five years old then! That means the boys must be a little younger than fifteen. So why the hell are we moving to this kind of town?!
Anyways, it was moving day. We were in the car happy as we can be. Well that was all my parents. I was pouting like crazy. I mean I was leaving my friends, my home, and school, which I surprising liked. We were almost to the new house when a drunk truck driver swirved to the wrong side of the street and hit us dead on. The next thing I knew, I blacked out.
I finally opened my eyes to an unfimilar room. It had bright lights that were blinding. I groaned but closed my eyes before I went blind.
Then I heard someone yell, "She's up! She's up!" That voice was very familiar. It sounded like my mom's. Sobbings could be heard.
"What's happening?" I question myself.
"Hiro." Someone called my name. They now appeared over my face. It was my dad. "How do you feel?"
"What's going on, dad?" I ask him. He just simply smiled in an akward way.
He rubbed my forehead and slicked his hand through my hand. That akward smile never left.
"Dad?" I call out to him.
My parents told me that we were in a car accident. We were hit dead on. Though we were hit dead on, my parents weren't even that injured which is a total miracle. They said they were in the hospital less than a week but me... I took a fatal blow to the head and slipped into a coma for two months! What's even worst, the idiotic driver had some kind of deadly gas he was carrying and I inhaled too much of it apparently and I got sick. And because of that I was in the hospital for less than six years! Six years of hell! I was so alone! I had no one there for me! I seriously thought of giving up. But something in my gut kept my from doing so. To this day I never found out what it was that kept me.
I was eleven years old when I was finally discharged from the hospital. I'm pretty sure you could imagine how happy I was to get out of the hospital.
Two weeks had passed since I was discharged and I was sitting in that field... alone.