The Anniversary.
*Current time: September 12th*
The rain splattered across the windshield of the small, black, Smartcar as Cerah Nicholas drove down the freeway. In the distance, a firetruck's siren blared with urgency. Veering off the road, Cerah took the key from the ignition and leaned back in the driver's seat as the heat from inside the car slowly gave way to the cold, damp air from outside. The rain whipped at her neck as she climbed out of the car, a bouquet of flowers tucked underneath her raincoat. The mud underneath her feet squelched with every step. On the freeway, cars past by with a flurry of water and headlights.
Up ahead, two thin metal sticks stood side-by-side in the muck. They both had wooden hearts stuck to them with glue and ribbon. A tattered baseball cap leaned up against the left pole, a dirty teddy bear leaned against the right one. The mud squished and slurped as Cerah knelt down and placed the bouquet of flowers underneath the place markers. "Happy anniversary, Mom and Dad." Cerah choked out the words. You see, today was the third anniversary of her parents death. Nothing had really been the same since they died. Cerah really couldn't describe it, waking up every day without them there was like waking up every day without colour being present in the world.
With rain pelting down from the outer-most reaches of Heaven, Cerah sat on the hood of her car. Her face was turned up towards the dark skies. Silently, Cerah prayed to whoever was in charge to take her away. She didn't want to wake up another day with bitter hollowness aching within her soul. She just wished to see her parents again, the way they were when they were at their best, not how they looked after they were wretched from a car that had been crushed like an empty soup can.
Sighing, Cerah rounded the side of the car and tentatively reached into the passenger's seat. From the glove box, she drew a gun, a gun no one knew she possessed.
• • •
The wind rustled the leaves above Cerah as she made her way deeper into the forest. When she reached a clearing, she walked towards the center and gingerly rose the gun towards her head. She gulped down the last remains of fear and positioned her finger on the trigger. '3...'she told herself '2...1...'
YOU ARE READING
The Broken Bottle
Teen Fiction[UNDER MAJOR CONSTRUCTION] After her parents died in a car crash, Cerah felt like all colour and emotion had been sucked out of the world. It hurt to get up in the morning, but she still woke every day and forced her thousand-watt smile. One particu...
