Chapter 2:
Cassandra's POV:
Picture this:
Warm and sunny breeze casually brushing your skin as you and your dad drive home from the bookstore. You thank God for no rain on this nice April day. 9th grade has been a blast so far, you've made many friends, and you actually like them and don't refer to them as losers. Only a few months left until no more school!
And that is all I can think about on the way home, the upcoming tests on the back end of my head. I don't feel like reading any of my new books, enjoying the day too much. The funny thing is one moment you are having a nice day and the next your world comes crashing down.
I turn the knob of the radio up and start singing, with my "oh-so-lovely" voice, as we drive by the lake, the lake stretches out for miles and is a beautiful sparkling blue. There are benches and picnic tables lined up across the lake for family gatherings. It's a hit for fireworks on July 4th. There are many trees along the shore, an a little bit away from the shore are tiny apple trees that are only a few years old.
"I'm out of touch, I'm out of love. I'll pick you up when you're getting down. And out of all these things I've done. I think I love you better now."
Yes. I break into the lovely, Ed Sheeran.
My dad looks at me laughing swearing there is something wrong with me (I get overly dramatic when I sing, and do hand gestures like I'm on drugs. But I swear I am not.) When he looks back up there are people crossing the street:
"People!" I shout at my dad, even though he can obviously see them. My dad swerves the car. We spin towards the lake in slow motion, like in movies when they try to look cool but look dumb. My body lunges forward smashing into the air bag, I shudder back whiplashing my head into the headrest as we dive headfirst into the water.
My eyes blink open, water is filling the car. My dad is unconscious, and I'm about to be. I need to get out of here. I take my seatbelt off and turn to the door. It won't budge. I try again, more forcefully. Again it won't budge.
So this is it, this is how I die. A drowning victim.
No. I refuse to let this be my legacy.
I need to break the window. But how? I need something sharp. Think. Think! I grab my soaking wet purse and search frantically, the water at my chin. I see it: the pocket knife my dad got me for Christmas in case anyone 'got too close'. I flip it open as the water continues to rise. I punch the window with the knife. Out comes a crack. I continue to punch and punch gasping for breath. Punch. Punch. Punch. Finally the cracks connect and break away.
I climb out of the hole and with the little strength I have left I begin to swim. I hear someone shout that they see someone as they grab my arm to help pull me out. I feel faint and can't walk, I lean on the person.
"Cassandra!?" The person holding me shouts. They know me! I get the strength to stand up a bit and look them in the eye.
"Mr. Ryan Flent." I murmur as I fall into his arms, and I'm out cold.
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YOU ARE READING
Mr. Ryan Flent and Me
Teen FictionMy name is Cassandra Townsman. This is the story of Mr. Ryan Flent and me. We were never close until a car crash. What are the odds? I got into a car crash and romantically fell into Mr. Ryan Flent’s arms, and then I was out cold. For four days. A...