Life can change in an instant, especially when cars are involved. Imagine yourself on a lovely summers day, surrounded by your friends in one of their new cars. Everyone knows how cocky teenagers get when they receive their first car, immediately wanting to show it off.
The first of my friends to experience that feeling was Tara, Tara Conner, also know as miss perfect. I might not have been very popular, but my friends sure were. Tara's boyfriend, Jim Hemmins, all star winning quarter for our very own high school football team, and the queen bee in waiting, Lilly Stevens, was also in my click. Tara and Lilly picked me up in Tara's new red convertible shortly after they picked up Jim on that Sunday evening.
The sun was going down, hiding behind some clouds, the orangish yellow from it mixing with the white and blue of the sky elegantly. We speed down the back roads of the little town we called home at a speed much faster than I thought possible.
The radio was blaring the latest top ten hits, muffling our voices as we laughed and sang along to the songs that were so bad they were good. Tara took a particularly hard right around one of the bends and in that one moment our movie like moment was gone.
The horrid sounds of metal on metal filled the air, worse than nails on a chalk board. I remember trying to scream as the car tumbled over and over and over, but being unable to make a sound. I blacked out, I think, for a split second, coming to just in time to hear as well see Lilly's head snap to the right and then lull back.
Once the car had stopped moving I reached for my seat belt buckle, trying to free myself, but it was no use, it was jammed. Almost in a daze, I found a piece of glass from the bashed in windshield down by my feet in the backseat, and used it to saw my way free.
I pulled myself up from my previous position, reaching my hand around the seat in front of me to feel Jims neck for a pulse- nothing. Though I was unable to see Tara's face, I knew by the way her neck was angled that she was dead too. After a few seconds of just sitting there, I pulled my hand away from Jim and stared for a moment at the blood that now covered it.
I let silent tears drop down my face as I pushed as hard as I could on my door, falling to the ground on a few pieces of shattered glass as it broke away from the confines of the crushed car. Wincing, I pulled some glass shards out of my arm, and for the first time I caught my reflection in the rim of the tire. It was then I noticed how bloody I, myself, was.
I stared in shock at my distorted reflection, running a finger down the cut that ran from my forehead to my chin. Blood seeped out slowly, trickling down my face so the whole left side was covered, almost like a mask.
I realized that day how quick life can be altered. I also realized that day, as I limped away from my high school friends that my love for blood had begun, and since that day it had just gotten worse.
The girl in front of me whimpered through the duck tape and struggled against the rope, shaking the chair as she did so. I watched her with my head cocked to the side for a while before lifting the butcher knife up and catching my reflection, gingerly running a finger down the scar that lined my face, a permanent reminder of the day my life actually began.
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creepshow (wattys2018)
HorreurHe's watching me. That's all he ever does. He stands on the other side of the glass and stares at me. He brings his friends and they join him in the pointing. They tap their fingers against the glass at me, the noise filling my ears, causing my worl...
