"I never asked for friendship, yet you gave it to me."
An introvert who likes to go outdoors. An extrovert who's friends with one person at a time.
Summer's daytime lasts longer than the night, inviting everyone out to play. Sabito, a child who's l...
The car smashed itself against her petite, fragile body.
I inhaled the icy breeze, and a wave of panic slinked down my spine.
What. The. Hell.
"Valerie!" I screamed, bolting down the street. The white car ceased, but the driver didn't open the door. An outstretched hand exposed itself to the daylight.
No, this can't be real.
I hauled her out from the wreckage, her body dragging bits of metal and glass along with her.
I will never forget the sight that lay before me.
She was almost unrecognisable. Her pink dress was dyed a deeper shade of red, and her hair was drenched in her own blood. I held her broken body close to my chest, and the stains of red became fuzzy and blurred in my eyes as tears obscured my vision.
I know what the face of death looks like.
I've seen it before.
And now I'm seeing it again.
Her distorted face wore the mask of death. The hinges of her jaw relaxed, and her eyes popped out of their sockets. Terror was stitched into her dilated pupils and lost its shine. Bits of debris dirtied her sticky hair, and her head burdened her neck with its weight.
You can't leave me, you just can't...
I cradled her body in my arms, rocking back and forth. My hands were stained crimson, but I didn't care. A blood-curdling scream shot out from the depths of my soul and blocked the sound of the bustle circling around me.
I began to slow down as my lungs released all its oxygen, and my throat tightened and suffocated the last of my cries. Tears poured down my face, and my hands did nothing but tremble as I released her from my embrace.
"...Valerie?" croaked a small voice.
My silence was broken, and I looked up.
Her mother fell to her knees beside me, piercing her skin with the broken shards of glass. Shaky, feeble hands searched around for her child, and she grasped Valerie's wrist. A cold, limp hand dangled and flopped around. The same hand that once held a butterfly.
"Valerie...?" she asked again, staring into space and gripping onto the disconnected fingers.
How could I've not noticed it?
She's unable to see her daughter.
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