Sugarplum

SUGARPLUM

~This essay was from when I was little and in sixth grade so bare with it, there is a better sequal maybe coming out soon!~

    The memory was still fresh in my mind. I couldn’t get rid of it. My mothers car, bent around the metal railing on the bridge, had crashed right into the side railing, going at an angle so the railing went into the drivers door. I, luckily, wasn’t on the side the railing went through. It split through our car like butter, driving right into my mothers side. I remember screams, either from me or my mother, but they didn’t sound like either of us, it sounded abnormal. I just sat there for a minute, absorbing the scene around me.

     The cars front was sticking off the edge of the bridge, yet, with the angle we hit it, the railing kept us nice and stuck. Feeling that we were not going to fall off the bridge if I moved, I checked behind me to see where the sound was coming from in the backseat and saw a little doll sitting up in the backseat with the seatbelt on. The thing looked worse than my now dead mother, with its smashed in nose and shattered teeth. My guess is that it hit it’s head on the back of my moms seat, but where did it come from? I’ve never seen it before in my life, and there was a menacing way he was staring at the back of my mother’s seat and it seemed his eyes followed her blood as it dripped down her chair to the floor.

    I needed to get help. Not for my mother, because she was already gone, and I was alone. I’ve been through this before, with my dad... 4 years ago when I was 9... so I knew the I had to alert the authorities of her death as I had learned from the other incident when I didn’t when my dad committed suicide. Yet this loss was just as hard. It always seemed death was in my life. Since I was first born.

    I knew I had to hurry,  yet I didn’t want to leave my mother alone with the doll. So I took it, carefully, and placed it out on the sidewalk. Then I started jogging down the sidewalk the other way to a town we had just passed before the crash happened. Once I reached it, I ran to the police station and explained my situation to a cop named Chris. He asked my name and situation so I did

    “Samantha Kilowask, I’m 13 and I was just in a car crash on the bridge and....and my mother’s dead.” He said for me to immediately take him to the crash site. So I did. What did I have to lose?

    He gave me a ride in his car, so I didn’t have to walk another 1/4 of a mile. When we reached my car, it had completely changed. The door my mother was leaning on before, had been ripped off, with the railing in it too, and was barely visible floating down the river. Chris the policeman looked into the car. He immediately came out and got sick on the sidewalk. Right where the doll was supposed to be. Right where I left it. Where was it?

    I then looked in, having to lean over the bile beneath me, and saw that my car was a lot more bloody than before. Then I noticed my mother and wanted to be sick myself. She had bits missing from her all over, from her face, arms, throat, legs, everywhere. When I forced myself to look closer, I saw that they were teeth marks there too. My poor mother! What could have done this to her?! An animal? Must’ve been, for she was so much better than this before I left...

    Then I looked down and saw the doll, sitting on her lap, smiling at me with now bloody, sharp, shattered teeth. The police officer then came back to reality and leaned in and took the doll out by the hand and dangled it in front of me for me to see.

    “What is this?” He asked and I answer honestly with a “I don’t know,” but as I said it, the doll’s head rotated and he began singing a song.

    “You are my honey-bunch SUGARPLUM, pumpi-umpi-umpkinz, you’re my sweetie-pie,. You’re my cuppy-cake, gum-drop, shnugam-shnugam shnort, the apple of my eye!”