Five years.
Stupid death.
Stupid cars.
Stupid me.
I plug in my white headphones into my ears. The song Harlem by New Politics is on.
Yay. Today is great. It's the second to last day of summer. Exactly five years ago, my best friend Leandra Maca, and her parents, died.
She died. She died because of a stupid drunk driver.
Stupid death.
Stupid cars.
Stupid me.
Tomorrow, I have to get my school supplies for junior year for high school. Ugh. School. I hate it sometimes. Sometimes. I barely have any friends. Sort of. I'm sort of excited. Surprisingly. I barely get excited anymore.
I'm in the car. The sky is blue. Perfect for sitting on a grassy hill. I don't do that anymore actually. It brings back memories. Painful memories.
I've arrived at my house. My parents disappeared two years ago. My sister was eighteen, I think. Now she's 21. Since my parents disappeared, my sister is my guardian.
I'm getting out of our ancient Kia van, and I hear a sound besides my music. A crash. It sounds like someone face planted in the sidewalk. I jump onto the curve and look towards the sound. It's a guy. It looks like he fell off his black skateboard. I'm walking toward him. He gets up and I see that his nose is bleeding. "You ok?" I ask, even though I already see that there's blood on his face.
"Sure," he says with a touch of sarcasm and a hint of a smile.
I realize that this random dude has amber eyes and brown hair that seemed to stick onto his head. His baseball cap lies at his feet. I pull out a tissue pack from my pocket. "Want one?"
"Yeah," he extends his not bloody hand and takes the tissue that I offer. Then he starts to cover his face with the tissue, and red seeps through. "Anyways, thanks," he says to me as he picks up his cap and skateboard.
"No problem," I respond.
He then brushes past me and doesn't say another word.
I walk into my house.
