I could smell the dew of the grass that cushioned my head when I woke up. My body was so numb and distant. I could do nothing but see her drenched face staring back at me and feel the cold sting of a few tears on my cheeks.
All around me I heard birds singing.


That Friday afternoon had been so bright and cloudless outside. I choked back words of retaliation as my mother stood stiffly on the porch step, arms crossed.

“I told you,” she said in a voice that had obviously been stretched to it’s limits. “This is the last time I will say it. You are not going to that house.”
My fists were clenched, arrogance that was days old now frothing inside me. “I’m not a kid,” I wretched, eyes full. “Why can’t I do what I want?!”
I was being demanding, spirit full of the confidence that I knew exactly what I was doing. It was a stupid question. I already knew why.

“Carissa,” my mother responded evenly, averting her gaze. “I will not allow you to go to that party. End of discussion.”
I threw my hands up. This conversation had been carried on for nearly a week. I didn’t understand- I thought everything was fine and because I had always been a good person, I deserved this.

“Go pick up your sister,” she coughed weakly, turning to go back inside. “I’m still not feeling great.”

Angrily, I stomped over to the truck resting peacefully in our driveway. Mom had been sick for several days, and I had to take on the work she couldn’t manage.
Like picking up younger siblings from school.
I muttered to myself as I unlocked the vehicle, emotions boiling. I was tired of it all. I felt as if too much stress had been placed on my shoulders. Today had been the day I decided to snap.

The entryway of my house closed as I slammed shut the driver’s door behind me. I remember as I shoved a key furiously in the ignition how the birds chattered in the trees outside. I was feeling so sorry for myself- I never got what I wanted, my hard work was never rewarded, and my mistakes always magnified. I was doing everything and I wasn’t even allowed to have a bit of freedom. At that moment, I felt something of almost hatred toward my mom and the rest of the world.

As I set out to get to the elementary school that dimming afternoon, I dangerously floored my way through town, mind clouded. I wasn’t thinking straight as I pulled into the parking lot.

When my five-year sister climbed into the truck, I refused to remind her to put her seatbelt on. It’s only a short drive back home, I rationalized to myself, scowling at the dashboard. It’s not like it’ll hurt anyone. And in my head, it was just another way for my mother to be constantly controlling me.

The sky darkened with gray clouds that rolled over the sun, but I didn’t notice. My thoughts were focused on that party I would never get to go to. Glancing at the clock, the pain intensified a bit because I realized the party was starting, then suddenly released as a new thought formed. I now wish I had the sense to turn down the idea that popped into my head.

“Lauren,” I recall tossing over my shoulder with a glint in my eye. “We’re not gonna go straight home today, okay?”
Her bright blue, innocent eyes peered back at me. “Oh. Okay.” For once, she did not ask why.

I changed course and tore down a separate route, racing for the exact destination my mother forbade me to go to. My heart was pounding, adrenaline in my system enchanting my mind with the idea I might get caught. The fierce spirit of rebellion burned in my heart.

Why couldn’t have a police officer pulled me over? I was so scared and excited that I was driving like an idiot. I felt like I was on top of the world. If only I had been caught…

We weren’t that far from town, but we were far from help when it happened.
All I heard was a couple of soft whimpers from the back seat as we swerved left and right down summer countryside. I was harsh enough to shush her, but I was also barely able to focus on her enough to do so.

I remember trying to take a right at a speed way too fast for the car to handle. Suddenly, we were off the road and my sister was screaming. I no longer had control.

A stump. There. Waiting for us. All it took was for my truck to ram into it head on at seventy-five miles per hour.

All I can remember now is the windshield shattering, metal crunching and screeching in my ears. She was screaming so shrilly. My nerves went numb. The blood pulsing to my head was deafening.

Crashing, crashing, pain. Tears streaming, and my mouth was releasing such a terrifyingly fatal sound. The party… Lauren… Mom…

Silence suffocated my scream.


I could smell the dew of the grass that cushioned my head when I woke up. My body was so numb and distant. I could do nothing but see her drenched face staring back at me and feel the cold sting of a few tears on my cheeks. There was blood, so much blood. Her blue, cold, dampened eyes bore right into mine, color from her cheeks spilled all over her face. Her mouth was contorted in one, final ‘help,’ that would never leave her lips.

I could only stare. Terror consumed my final thoughts as I listened to the sound of my own frantic heartbeat slow down until it was almost too faint to be heard. And then it stopped. Just stopped.

My eyes continued to see with uttermost clarity. I was not just numb anymore. I was dead.
My poor little sister stared at me lifelessly, the consequence of my terrible actions.
I stared back.
As we lay in cold wait for hours for the help that would never come, I could only hear for miles and miles was the sound of birds singing.