An honest mistake

The scars

She was a monster. First of all, she had killed the three people who were in the cars that night, and one of them was her best friend, the other teenagers. They were only sixteen and were probably not even allowed to drive yet. She felt miserable.

It did not help when she was first allowed to see her face.

She gasped as she was looking at herself in the mirror. She wanted to look away, but her eyes stayed fixed on her reflection. It may be the last time she'll gather the courage to look at herself. Both her parents were present to support her.

"When you were unconscious you were leaning on the detached car door and the metal kind of... mel-melted... on your face and upper body...? Hesitated her mother. And the door stayed glued to your body... And they had to remove it somehow."

No wonder she was covered in bandages and forced to close her eyes while they changed it. The right half of her face had a scar where layers of skin used to be. It must have been more painful for her father than it was for her, seeing the tears running down his face. For once in his life, he must have wished he was the kind of strict father that would never have let his kid go to parties, and not wear such dresses. Even though he knew the dress had nothing to do with it. She could see her father was blaming himself, she didn't understand how he could think it was his fault when it was hers. But she didn't say a word. She'd looked at the murderer in the mirror and thought about the innocent lives they took.

She'd dreamed of herself before the accident, she'd dreamed of a life where she never went to the party, a life where she stayed with her friend dancing all night. A life where the man she met that night hadn't noticed her.

-

She was walking in the street that night. She would stay in the dark, only roaming through the avenues without working lights. Nobody else was here.
Every day she would go to the same roads at the same time, where no one could see her, where she couldn't see herself, where she could forget everything.

Maybe because she was lost in thought or because she was too used to the street being empty but she hadn't noticed the group of adults coming her way.

She only saw them after bumping into them. She apologized, keeping herself hidden under her sweatshirt's hood. But they wouldn't move even after the apology.

"Are you the Sarah from the news?"

She felt her heart drop to her stomach.

"Why?"

The young woman tried her best to not look at them in the eyes.

"You are here. We know. We've seen you going down this alley every day.

-Why would you do this?" Her voice was trembling and probably her legs too.

The woman closest to her looked at her with such anger in his eyes that she almost thought she was looking at herself in a mirror. The man at the right of the girl answered.

"We've been looking for an opportunity to corner you for days since the accident. It's the first time we gather the bravery to do it.

-What are you talking about?" Her eyes had started to water and she wasn't sure if it was because of the reminiscence of the accident or the pressure on her right now.

"Make an effort. Do you have no idea who the four of us could be?"

She difficulty gulped down her saliva. She knew who they were but couldn't bring herself to say it out loud.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to.

-Didn't mean to? You killed my sister. I don't care about your intentions. The man said.

-I'm on trial tomorrow... I'll face my sentence, and I am ready to plead guilty to all charges against me.

-Do you really think it will make up for the death of my daughter?"

She wasn't able to answer the question of the woman. She knew it was nothing and it would never account for the loss of a life. She could only know better. The death of Lori had ripped in half her heart.

"I'm sorry.

-Is that the only thing you can say? Said one of them, clearly irritated.

-Sorry."

One of the men seemed on the verge of screaming and pushed her against a wall. He was holding her throat while the other joined to keep her from defending herself.

She remembers feeling a punch in her stomach, she remembers screaming, she remembers blood in her mouth, she remembers its taste. She remembers falling on the floor and curling up in a ball and waiting for them to finish hitting her. She was taking every single one of their punch, vaguely hearing the insult and ignoring the tears that she felt through the fabric.

She looked up to see the face of the first man wet because of the tears and snot, it was a mistake as he held a knife and stabbed her in the neck.

She doesn't remember if she screamed or not. She knows the time stopped for just a second when everyone looked at each other in disbelief then she heard one of the women scream. It pierced her ear as everyone flew the scene and the blood flowed through her clothes.

Her phone was broken, but she was still in shock and she wouldn't have been able to call an ambulance. It's not like she really wanted to. Somehow, she thinks she deserved that, and even worse.

She died, the face of the man full of anger in her head.
She died, knowing that her death wouldn't make it to the first page of the newspaper.