Some latest and greatest country song blares through my truck's stereo. My sister turns the volume up until it hurts my ears. I roll my eyes and suppress a grumble as I drive my truck a little faster than I should down the highway, quickly approaching a green light.
I reach for the dial and send Karinna a glare. "Can you not—"
My body swings to the left. A crunch fills the air and popping, and my head slams into the window.
The trees blur past my windows as I drive down this haunted road. Two years ago my sister died. They said I ran the red light, and that we were t-boned from the right causing my sister to be crushed.
If I had only stopped. If only the last thing she saw wasn't me glaring at her. This was the street where it happened. To visit her grave, this is the way I have to go.
A heart wrenching reminder that my sister's death is my fault every time I see her headstone.
My radio starts blasting country. I scrunch the skin up between my eyes. This radio has never been set on a country station. Never again, I said when I bought it after the wreck.
I reach for the knob but someone else's fingers touch it before I do. I follow the fingers up a hand and an arm, all the way up to my sister's face.
She looks the same as she did two years ago. Two years ago when she was still breathing.
I'm not in my hybrid. I'm in my old truck.
She tilts her head. "Yes?"
A second chance.
I slam on my break, my head slinging to the front as my body swings forward to see the intersection where the crash had—will?— happen. The light's red.
A horn blares and in my mirror I see a SUV closing the distance between my truck and it.
I don't have time.
Glass shatters and metal crunches as it shreds. My heart lifts up in my chest as my stomach flops, as weightlessness and gravity collide. My hair flies around as my head pounds into the door and my headrest.
The roof of the truck crashes into the asphalt and