A screech of breaks, the crack of bone; as I lay there cold and alone..
Yet another day, which began the same as nearly every other boring- pointless one. One after another the began to seamlessly blend into a vicious cycle. As I got real for the usual boring events that took place on a Saturday. The morning droned on as I eagerly anticipated the arrival of my beautiful mother and the newest addition to the Oakley Clan.
The door-bell knelled indicating the baby had finally come home from hospital, I greeted them with a smile that shone from my cheeks and a glisten in my eye. He was a dot in comparison to the car seat, he swam in his pale blue baby grow and the matching hat that covered his tiny, hairless head. I'd boiled and re-boiled the kettle around twelve times, I knew he'd be due a feed and mam would love a real cup of tea; one that didn't taste like a silicone cup.
I inhaled through my gaping nostrils which were then filled with a futile stench; known as new born baby nappy. Delightful.. I know. " I forgot the nappies in the hospital, will you run the shop?" She ordered, she was the type of mother who'd ask you a question yet mean it as an order. She handed me the money and off I went to the shop, pumping music into my ears. I was usually very careful crossing roads but today I wanted to be extra quick to spend time with the baby. I didn't notice the lights nor did I notice the pale blue Mini-Cooper proceeding towards me at great speeds, barely staying in a straight line. The green-man flickered allowing me to cross, the freezing air pierced my cheeks like hot needles stinging the life out of me. I glanced to my left; at this stage it was too late, the divers eyes widened as he pressed the brakes . They screeched, he didn't hit them in time. My petite frame flew up on the bonnet , cracking my skull off the wind-screen, as i rolled off the car with a clatter my body was limp. My spine now in two, there wasn't any hope for me now. Eye-witnesses stood frozen with fear in their eyes, as the smell of burning rubber filled their lungs, while the screech of brakes and the crack of bones echoed through the not so crowed Dublin street.
I lay there still, motionless as cashmire blood trickled from my plump lips and tiny nose. The last thing I recall from that day was; the screech of brakes, the crack of bones as I lay there cold and alone. I'd been killed by a drunk driver.
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Historia CortaI'm considering doing a series of short stories but I'm not entirely sure of whether or not I will or where it will take me. Here is a brief story I've written back in September, for English.
