"We... have some bad news, Ms. Arther. He... has significant damage in his legs. Physical therapy will be needed to try and give his legs a chance again." The doctor said with a grim tone. "But... we aren't sure if he'll ever be able to walk again."
"Oh..." Dan's mother sighed. "Will he ever be able to drive again?"
"I'm... I'm sorry Ms. Arther. The chances are very slim."
Dan's mother yelped and sniffed.
"When will he wake up?"
"We don't know. He could wake up at any time. We just have to wait and see."
There was a pause. All that could be heard were the sniffs and soft cries of his mother, and the light breathing of the doctor. The pause wasn't awkward. It was a pause of grief and sadness.
"Thank you, Doctor Cartor." The silence was finally broken.
"You're welcome. Call is when he wakes if you're here."
"Alright." Dan's mother nodded.
Doctor Cartor left without any further word. But, there were no words to be spoken. Grief is only sorrowful silence, while mourning is the memories that will be made no more.
She stroked Dan's hand and cried. Her thoughts were only whispers to the world, but screams to her. She understood the loss, but she wished she didn't.
----------------------------------
Cherry
It's been 1 month since his accident.
He hasn't moved or woken since.
I miss hearing his voice.
My own child was hit by a car after achieving what we never thought he could. The impact this will make on his life will never allow him to go further.
I feel like I did this to him.
I didn't care enough for him.
I didn't love him.
I neglected him to go with men. I'm such a whore and a slut.
I wish I could go back in time and redo everything I ever did wrong.
Maybe I'm selfish for that? Wanting to be perfect? I don't know.I don't know anything anymore.
I feel like everything I though I knew is wrong. All wrong.
I never have felt so... so... disgusting.
Nothing brings me any happiness anymore.And I feel so much worse because when he wakes up... when he wakes up, he won't even love me.
He won't even care about me.
He'll be angry.
He'll hate me.
He'll want me to leave.
He'll never want to see me.He... he won't care if I'm dead.
----------------------------------
Number 45
Anger.
Fury.
Rage.
Sadness.
Disappointment.
Embarrassment.It's hazy, the memories. All I remember now is a big ball of emotions, and the sound of death.
So much death.
It's hard to believe so many people died because of me. There were only 2 survivors;
Benjamin Lakeford
Number 32, Daniel Jameson Arther.Now my name is burned into so many people's memories.
So many grieving people because of me.
So many dead people because of me.What have I done?
I don't feel anything.
I guess I'm still in shock from the whole thing.
Or am I phyco?
I don't know, probably.
I did kill so many people.It's disturbing, isn't it?
It's disgusting, isn't it?My name is a curse, now.
So many fear and loathe my name.
I don't even remember my name.Loathe isn't a strong enough word for how they feel.
But, there isn't a stronger word.
I wish there was.
----------------------------------------
Unknown
I screamed with joy when he crossed the finish line. I watched him as he raised his arms in triumph, as he held up his wheel, as he was bathed in confetti.
As he was smashed by Number 45.
So many people died that day, and there was so much screaming. I saved up so much for that day, and anticipated it's arrival. But, now I wish it never existed. Now I wish I could forget absolutely everything.
The world is a disgusting place filled with wrongdoings and suffering. And now I wish I was never a part of it. After witnessing what I did, you wouldn't blame me. You would feel the same way.
So much that I saw... All of what I saw was traumatic. Everyone says I need therapy since I was right there when it happened. I watched everything. There was no one to shield my eyes like a soft mother.
I watched it all.
I smelled it all.
I heard it all.It looked like death.
It smelled like blood.
It sounded like death.You're probably wondering who I am.
I don't even know anymore.You're probably wondering who number 45 is, but I do not dare speak his name. He is menacing, horrific, evil, and downright despicable.
--------------------------------------
●■●■●■●■●■●■●■●■●■●■●■●■●■●■●■●■●■●■●■●■●■●■●■●■●■●■●■●■●■●■●■●□○□○□○□○□○□○□○□○□○□○□○□○□○□○□○□○□○□○□○□○□○□○□○□○□○□○□○□○□○□○□○□
Yo yo yo.
What do you think?
Do you like it?
Should I continue it?Thanks for reading this far.
It's my first story that is written with my characters.It's pretty grim.
Should I put a warning?
I think I will...

YOU ARE READING
Racer
RastgeleDaniel Jameson Arther is a racecar driver with ambition as deep as the ocean. But, when disaster strikes, will they be able to find whining responsible for his bitter accident?