Prologue
On the curb of the dead-end street Intensity Boulevard, a child's bike was laying on its side, one wheel slowly turning. A little girl's crying was audible, despite the wind and rain. Her voice hinted at a begging tone while she sobbed. Her cries of help brought many people out of their homes.
As people came to help, they noticed she was in the street. She was bent over what looked to be a body.
"Please, someone help!" She screamed.
A man ran to her side. "What's wrong, sweetheart?"
The little girl's deep blue eyes shimmered with the tears that began slowly falling down her cheeks. She tried to swallow the large lump in her throat, without success.
"Well?" The man pressed.
"My mom, she was helping me learn how to ride my bike. She brought me out to the curb, looked both ways like she always tells me to, and she started to cross. All of a sudden, this big truck comes from around the corner and hits her on purpose! They were laughing as they drove away!" She sobbed.
"So what are you trying to do?" The man asked.
"She was really tired before we left and promised we would both get a nap when we were done. I think she's asleep, but she won't wake up!" The girl began to play with her mom's hair.
"What are you doing?" A woman asked, who had just rushed over to help.
"Sometimes, when I start to braid Mommy's hair, she'll wake up. Maybe she'll do it now!" The girl continued intricately parting, seperating, and weaving her mother's dark hair.
"Honey, I think it's time to go." The man grabs the little girl's hand and pulls her away from her mother.
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Chapter 1: Realization
I slammed the door to my locker shut. "You don't get it Ari! Do you know what it's like to have a mother whose murder has never been solved?"
Ariana looked down at her shoes. Even my best friend didn't understand what I went through at times. "I'm sorry Camille, I totally understand. I could be more sympathetic."
I sighed. "I don't want sympathy." A tear slides down my cheek without my permission, most likely smearing my light brown eyeliner. "I just want her back."
Even after 10 years, I still feel as though it was yesterday. Little 6 year old me learning how to ride a bike. My mom making sure there are no cars, so that it's safe for me to cross the street.. A large, dark purple truck speeding down the street from around the corner after she's done looking. Me, not being loud enough as I try to warn my mother. She looked at me at the last second, and the truck slammed into her body, knocking her onto the black, cracked pavement. I'll never forget those eyes, looking at me with first confusion, then agony as the truck hit her...
"Camille!" Ariana was shaking my shoulder. "We've got to go to class!"
"What?" I look up in confusion. "Oh, okay."
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