There are moments in life when time seems to speed up. You look back and think, “Wow, that sped by!” or you wonder why there was never enough time to accomplish something.
Not this time.
Time, it seems, locked me in its teeth as the semi-truck plowed into us in the intersection. I saw everything, from the shock on my parents’ faces, to the sorry look of the truck driver.
At least he was ready for it.
Two Weeks Later
We were all there. Me, Pleiades (yes, like the constellation), in all my 16 year old glory, and my sisters: the youngest at 7, Luna, 13 year old Astrid, 12 year old Artemis, and 15 year old Celeste. Our aunt, uncles and cousins. Our entire neighborhood. The church, the food line our parents worked at, fellow employees, and anyone else who knew them. It was a long list.
The five of us stood there, looking down at our parents’ graves. I was holding Luna on my hip with my left arm, Astrid was leaning into the same side, and my right arm was around Artemis and Celeste was holding my right hand. The younger 4 were crying, not to say that I wasn’t, ‘cause I was, in my own, internal, strong, silent way, as Celeste later described it.
We had heard from the truck driver a few days before the funeral. He profusely apologized and explained what happened: the brakes weren’t connected. A common problem that most semi trucks have. And our parents were gone.
Because he didn’t check his brakes.
YOU ARE READING
Dragonborn (need a good title)
Science FictionIt's been two years since our parents died. Two years since they were taken from us. Two years of struggling on our own to fit in and get along in life. Two years for something to happen. And did it ever. Thrown into a battle that was never our own...
