We drove home after the dinner. In the car, my dad put on a CD of Rock n' Roll on the radio. I was really happy due to the fact that I thought Peter liked me. I definitely liked him!
My mom had a smile on her face and was talking to Grandma on the phone.
Grandma and Grandpa live in Minnesota. We live in Philadelphia. The last time they visited us was just a few weeks ago but Mom decided to call them everyday and it was made into a daily routine.
Grandma had curly white hair and kind hazel eyes. She always baked cookies for Ian and me.
Grandpa had short gray hair and a mustache. He loved to fish so we usually had fish for dinner over there.
My dad was singing along to the song on the radio.
Ian was playing a game on his iPhone.
I always thought Ian was too young to have an iPhone. I mean, seriously. He eight. I have an iPhone, but I'm twelve. Come on!
I got my iPhone last year. When Ian saw it, he wouldn't stop asking me to play on it. When I finally gave it to him, he wouldn't give it back. Mom had to literally pry it out of his little 7 year old hands. After that, he wouldn't stop begging our parents for an iPhone for his 8th birthday. I guess they got sick of all of his begging and crying for a phone because, to my surprise, when he opened his birthday present, I saw a shiny new iPhone.
Now, Ian is inseparable with his iPhone. It's like his new best friend.
I was daydreaming, Mom was talking, Dad was singing, and Ian was playing.
None of us looked at the road.
None of us saw the truck.
None of us noticed that it was going the wrong way on a one-way lane.
None of us noticed that it was coming straight at us.
Until it was too late.
The radio was still playing when the truck hit us and sent us flying into the air.
The radio was still playing when mom got thrown into and out the front of the windshield.
The radio was still playing when Dad fatally hit his head on the front of the car and broke his back and neck.
The radio was still playing when Ian's iPhone flew out of his fragile hands.
The radio was still playing when he, too, got smashed up onto the side of the car.
The radio was still playing when all of the airbags failed to work- all except one.
Mine.
The radio was still playing when I saw my parents' mangled bodies and Ian lying unconscious with a large, deep, and bloody gash on his forehead.
The radio was still playing when I saw my own bloody body.
The radio was still playing when I fainted from the shock of it all.
It's amazing what a simple radio can survive in the same accident where half a family died and the rest was devastated.
YOU ARE READING
The Life of a Freak
أدب المراهقينAmelia Lucy Grey, known to most simply as Amy, is a so-called "freak". Her passion for music and her dedication to violin makes her different and thus, in the eyes of other kids, makes her an easy bullying- target. Now twelve, Amy barely deals with...
