John slammed his glass on the table so hard it made my plate rattle. Still, I refused to look at him, glaring instead across the room, and at the framed picture on the wall. We were both just smiling together, just the two of us. Before Angie came into our lives.



“Bree! Are you even listening to me?” He exclaimed, throwing his hands up in disbelief. “You’re going to have to tell me sometime.” His voice softened, but it sounded more like a threat. Chill’s went down my spine, and I looked up at him.




“I have nothing to say about it.” I murmured, swallowing the lump in my throat.

“I want to know how my girlfriend lived her last minutes on earth! I can’t even believe they were with you! They should have been with me!” His eyes filled with tears, and I quickly stood up, knocking my chair down and bolting from the room.
I buried myself underneath layers of blankets and pillows. I did not want to hear my brother apologizing and knocking on the door. But I did not want to sleep or even have to think, because the memories of the crash constantly troubled me. The sounds of breaking glass, the bending of metal, and the dampness of blood soaking my clothes. The blood from Angie on my clothes.
I shuddered, squeezing my eyes shut. But how could I forget? Even before the crash I was having the time of my life, and for a little while, I was in the secret world of cool older people. Untill John ruined it by telling an embarrassing story of six year old me wetting herself. Angie noticed my discomfort, and offered to take me on a ride. John argued, jealous of me. For once.
With the volume turned on full blast, Angie and I streaked through the night. The hood was down, and our hair was flying out behind us. Everything felt cold, the leather on the seats were ice. But I didn’t care, and just sang along to the ridiculous eighties song on the radio. Angie turned the volume down.









“Let’s go to Vegas!” She laughed, turning her head to face me. I smiled and nodded. Angie wasn’t serious was she? Maybe it was just the drinks John’s friend passed around. We both were shaking, but either it was from that, the cold, or maybe from the excitement. A horn blared from behind us, and I looked to see John’s truck. Ugh. I was still annoyed with him, so I didn’t care when Angie took a sharp turn to the right. I laughed, and Angie pressed the petal even harder.
I could barely even see anymore, it was pitch black. Angie probably didn’t hear me when I asked what the time was. The roar of wind in our ears tuned everything out from our world. And I didn’t care. This was the most amazing night of my life. Untill the crash, that is.
When Angie turned to the left, we were blinded by the sudden light of a truck. My scream was cut off when Angie’s small car collided with the eight wheel death trap. My seat belt tightened it’s grasp, and I couldn’t breathe. The car rolled, and I ducked so my head wouldn’t crash against the ground. The truck followed and landed on the back of the car, cramming the metal behind our seats.
I couldn’t move, but I heard crunching as a man made his way over to us. “That one’s alive!” He cried, and I heard more crunching as they pulled me out. I glanced back, and there wasn’t even a car behind me anymore. It looked deformed, but I could still see the blood.
I didn’t realize I had been trapped in Angie’s car for over two hours. The doctor said I must have passed out from the pain, but the weird thing was that I didn’t feel anything. I was also too disoriented to notice Angie wasn’t with me.
I sat up, throwing the blankets off me. The cool air felt good on my tear stained face. John wasn’t knocking on my door anymore, so I slid off my bed and crept over to unlock it. Creak. I winced and opened the door wider before stepping out of it. John was sitting in the kitchen, holding his face in his hands. Was he…crying? I have never seen him cry, really cry, before. Not even when he found out about Angie. I was speechless. John’s head snapped up, and his eyes met mine. I blushed.










“I…I just got here. I can go if you want, I didn’t-“ John stood up, his face frantic.



“Please! Don’t go, we need to talk!” I stared at him in disbelief.





“ Last time didn’t work out so well, John.”




“I just-I’m sorry. I know I’m a selfish jerk of a person. I wasn’t even nice to Her.” I have never even seen him like this before. I didn’t really know what to say.



“Angie loved you John.” I murmured, “And I do too. It’s just that you make me feel like I’m the one who should have died.” I looked away, my eyes welling up with tears. John walked over to me, and gave me a small hug. My arms hung loosely by my side, and John let go of me. I crossed my arms and stared at him.

“I know it sounds like that, but you know I don’t mean it. You’re my little sister, Bree. I love you.” John never said that before. In all of my fourteen years, he have never, ever, said that. I was taken back.










“I know that,” I finally whispered, “And Angie did too.” I sat down across from him. “Angie was always happy, she never was angry with you. It was just crazy that night.” I smiled at the memory.











“She said we were going to Vegas.”…