The Nightmare of a Lifetime (Fictional short story)

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I wrote this short story my senior year of High School.  I have no idea what provoked it.  If I have to guess, what provoked this story I would say “fear”.  

Well my story begins like this I am a 6’0 tall, brown skin young lady, with big legs that feels really hurt and lost right now.   I cannot remember all the events that have taken place but I will try.   All I remember is screaming and being really upset for a very long time.   I was in bed taking a nap when my father walked in and said to me “Tera, I am going to pick up your mother.  I will be right back’.  I simply said “ok”.  I rolled over and attempted to go back to bed.  I was had finally fallen asleep.  I was up for hours because my high school sweetheart was cheating and recently dumped me.  My heart was ripped to shreds and I was trying to make sense of the events that had taken place in my social life.  Little did I know my life was about to get worse.   I was passing the time and (in and out of sleep) when I realized it had been about 2 hours.   My father had been gone a very long time.   I sat up in my bed and reached for the phone.   I called Mr. Williams.  This is the place my dad was picking up my mom from her best friend’s house which was not far from our home.   Mr. Williams stated my parents had been gone for hours.

After the call, I sprung from my bed and put my clothes on.  I remember my heart racing.  I was trembling with fear.   It was an instant response that something was wrong.   I ran out of the home only to realize my dad had driven my car.  I saw his van parked in the drive.  I remember seeing my mom’s spare keys on the hook.   I grabbed the spare keys and headed to the Williams’ home.   On the path to the home I saw the caution tape and my car wrapped around a pole.  I remember thinking….where are my parents.  I parked the van and ran to the caution tape.  The scene was being cleared to there were not a lot of details but they told me the person in the car were sent St Vincent Hospital.  My heart racing, I jumped back in the van and headed to St Vincent.  

I went to the information desk for help and I was told a social worker would be down to speak with me.   A social worker?  Why in the world would I need to speak with a social worker.  I want to see my parents.  I waited patiently and I was taken into a room.  In the room, the social worker and a minister came in.   I instantly broke down.   It was instant.  As they began telling me the details of the accident, I felt trapped in a bad dream.  I remember thinking about all of our good times together.   My dad was my partner in crime.  We were very close and did everything together.   I was his shadow.  Our connection was instant.   I was adopted at 18 months and from the day he picked me up were connected at the hip.  My best friend!  My best friend was gone?  I felt so lonely.   I felt my whole like drifting away with every breath. 

My mom was a different story.  We had our differences.  However, she was a good mom.  I think she did the best she could with the skill set she had.  She was loving.   She had my best interest at heart.  I then wonder about the afterlife.  Will my parents go to heaven?   The feeling of sorrow and loneliness had come over me.  This was my senior year.  My parents would never see me walk across the stage.  My parents would never see me get married.  My dad would never walk me down the aisle. 

The moment of truth was ahead of me.  I had to go identify the bodies.   My parents were so bruised and beat up.  They were swollen and almost looked as if one tear was streaming down my mother’s eye.  Was she crying in her final moments?  Did they suffer?  Was it instant?  In their final hour did they think of me?  All these thoughts and emotions were flooding my head.  How will I make it?  How will I pay bills?  I had already signed my volleyball scholarship for college.  Can I go to college with no parents? 

My mind then jumped to logic.   There had to be a logical reason these events had taken place. The only logical reason I could l think of was the fact that God wanted me to be more responsible.  God wanted my to be independent.   God wanted me to the poster child for surviving.  In the past year, my grandmother (roommate) and grandfather had passed away. It was such much pain to carry.  We all resided in the same home.  I was the only living person. 

I was also still broken from my recent break up which seemed minimal at the time yet had some emotional impact.  My first order of business was to contact everyone in my family and tell them what happen.  I had to contact my parents church.  I felt like I told the story repeatedly.   I had to decide if I was having one funeral or two funerals?  How would everything be taken care of?  Events like this make you love and appreciate friends and family in my/out live(s).  My aunt stepped in and took over.  I had some major decisions to make. You helped me not feel sorry for myself and throw a pity party.   She helped me find my independence. She helped tell my story.  She put me in grief counseling which help me immensely.  The day of the funeral was not extremely sad.  It was a celebration of two great people.  Two great souls.  I found comfort in knowing they would always have each other.   It was the way God intended it to be.