Make Me Laugh - Chicago Blackhawks

Chapter 1

Hello!

Not to long ago I deleted this story to edit it and change the plot because I found it a bit too boring. Hopefully this will spike your interest. Please don't judge and leave rude comments, I have a hard time with that type of stuff.

WARNING: strong language, inappropriate scenes, slightly depressing, and Maybe a bit offensive

(Chicago Blackhawks fan fiction)

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Chapter 1:

It wasn't the taste of blood that brought me back to reality. Or the rain pelting my face through the jagged shark-jaw where the windshield had been. Or the car engine screaming like a vacuum cleaner on steroids. Or the glass in my teeth.

It was the sight of Dad's feet.

Right now, in dim light just below the passenger seat, they looked weightless and demure, curved like a ballerina's. One shoe had fallen off, but both legs were moving listlessly with the rhythm of the black mass that lay across the top half of his body -the mass that was attached to the eyes that were staring up at me.

"Shit!"

I lurched away. The animal was twitching, smacking it's nose against my right arm now, flinging something foamy and warm all over the car. It was half in and half out, it's hindquarters resting on the frame of the busted windshield, it's haunches reaching out over the hood. The broken remains of a mounted handheld GPS device hung from the dash like an incompletely yanked tooth.

For a moment I imagined I was home, curled up on the couch, dads arm around me as we watched TV and sipped on hot cocoa. It was Friday night. I was always home on Friday night. But this was real, and I remembered now -the deer springing out of the darkness, running across the road, legs pumping, neck strained....

"Dad!"

My voice sounded dull, muffled by the rains rat-a-tatting on the roof. No one answered.

Not dad.

Dad.

Was he alive? He wasn't crying out. Wasn't saying a thing.

The sudden sound of an ambulance broke my gaze. I stared into the night, watching the flashing lights get closer and closer.

Then it was dark.

Pitch black.

FULLUMP!

The golden retriever, landing solidly on the floor next to the bed, woke me from my slumber. I laid absolutely still, staring around, the salty tears from last night dried onto my cheeks. Then I lifted my head from the pillow and looked over at Jake, who was standing at the door, commanding me to get up and let him out.

"Coming" I muttered, and rose to obey orders.

As Jake departed, I glanced at my docking station. 6:00 am. I yawned, stretching my arms above my head.

May as well get dressed.

I thought to myself, limping to my closet. I shoveled through my closet, looking for my dad's red bomber jacket, and placed it on my bed. I slipped my smooth legs into a pair of black leggings that I had stored in my closet, and was quick to throw on a black tank top. I pulled my jacket on over top of my tank top and zipped it up half way, before pulling my black converse on. I grabbed one of my crutches from beside my closet door and placed it under my armpit, walking into the bathroom. I opened a cabinet and pulled out my makeup bag, quickly applying some mascara and lipstick. After debating for 5 minutes on whether or not to wear my hair up or down, I finally decided to leave it down. I walked back into my room, grabbing my IPhone from the charger and shoving it into my jacket pocket.