||6x Featured|| Mirna Conlins has a confession: She likes being a runaway. And now, given the chance, Mirna wants to disappear. She just needs some cash before she goes. Watch how her plan unravels as the new boys in town get tangled in her web of l...
Alarm going off. "Mmmhmm!" I roll over and smack my alarm clock. Why does morning always come so early? Stupid school! Homeschooling was way better than this ...
I slip out of bed and stretch. "Hah! Breakfast time!" I step into my bunny slippers and make my way down to the kitchen.
Jimmy is at the oven. "Gooooood morning, Sapph." He doesn't turn to look. There goes his sixth sense again. Alerting him of everything, from the fleas on Nessa's neck to the arrival of the mail.
"Morning, we having sausage?" I sit at the breakfast table and take my pills with the glass of milk that Jimmy set out for me.
"Not even close." Jimmy spins around with his pan and slides an omelet onto a plate.
"Hmm. I gotta work on my sixth sense." I smile at him and dig in. Oh my gosh, it tastes so good.
"How about you just work on your sense of smell and leave the rest to Nessa." He sits next to me and pokes at his food with his fork. That's not like him; he's always hungry.
"You're on seconds already?" I pull the crust off my toast and toss it onto the floor, where Nessa instantly finds it and scarfs it down.
"Nope."
"My sixth sense is telling me you should go back to bed." I point my fork at him. He grins at me, but it looks forced. "Seriously. You look a bit iffy. Why don't you just let me drive myself to school today?"
"Out of the question, and you know it." He takes a bite of omelet finally, but he doesn't look happy about it.
"Come on, Jimmy! You've been driving me for six months! Can't I drive today?"
Jimmy sets his fork down, removes his glasses, and rubs his eyes. I study his face. He really doesn't look good.
"Okay, okay." I smile and take a bite of omelet. "But promise me you'll go back to bed when you get home."
He smiles. "You don't need to tell me twice."
We finish eating in silence, because Jimmy doesn't seem to have anything to say. He cleans up our dishes, and I rush upstairs to my bathroom to get ready for school. It only takes me five minutes to change into the clothes I set out for myself last night. I brush my teeth, apply the necessary deodorant, make-up, and perfume, then put my long hair up in a messy French twist.
Finally, I open the little box on the sink and take out my favorite bracelet, the Watch Over Me moon bracelet that Jimmy got me for Christmas. I clasp the charm bracelet to my left wrist.
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"Let's go!" I call, and I make my way out to the car. Jimmy doesn't follow me, and I start to wonder if he heard me. I'm about to go back in when he finally walks out and gets behind the wheel. "What took so long?" I ask as he drives us down the street.
He shrugs.
"What are your plans for the day?" I ask.
"I think I'll actually stay home." Jimmy turns the car onto University Avenue.
I nod and lean forward to fiddle with the radio, looking for a station that has actual music instead of morning commercials. Something makes me look up just in time to notice that the car is drifting across the center lane into oncoming traffic.
Jimmy's eyes are blank, staring. It's a seizure; I need to help him! I reach for the steering wheel, but I'm too late. The car drives right at a huge red truck, which is driving way too fast. Tires squeal loudly as the driver tries to avoid hitting us, but in the beat of a heart, we collide so hard our car jerks sideways. Jimmy flies into his window like a ragdoll. I scream as the windshield splinters and the window shatters and the airbags explode, smacking me in the face and knocking my arm away from the steering wheel.
Somethingin my arm snaps, and the pain is unlike anything I've ever felt before. Theworld grows smaller, but I hold onto consciousness as the car begins to spin inslow-motion, like we're parked on a rotating platform. In a daze, I find myselflooking directly at Jimmy, caught in the jagged broken glass of his window. Bloodpours from his neck, coating his shirt in red. I try to reach out for him. The painin my arm multiplies, and as the world slowly turns off, I find myself wondering,why wasn't I the one driving?
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