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    Short Story: Car Accident Essay

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    The darkening sky is tranquil and soft, and I find it beautiful to watch the last glimpses of mauve and crimson sink below the horizon beyond the soft, rolling mountains. In the car beside me Is my husband, Gerard, directly behind me Is my baby son, Joe. The smooth movement of the car Is repetitive and adds to my drowsiness. Soon we will arrive and my boredom will end. Until then, I will farewell the final light of day and alcove the night.

    Again I awake. It occurs tome that I must have been sleeping, yet I cannot recall when or how, it is now a dark, black night, and not as comforting as I had hoped for it to be. I turn to my husband, he too seems very drowsy. I tap his shoulder and he straightens to attention, fully aware of his surroundings after a few seconds. I can see Joe sleeping also, his soft, translucent eyelids and long, light lashes flickering gently as he murmurs softly.

    We continue along the deserted country road, all silently wishing we were there right I see a light in the distance. Instantly I assume we are near our destination, until I realize a car is approaching. I close my eyes peacefully, as the car approaches ours. I hear the car horn beeping, its driver and occupants screeching and cursing. I am wide awake. I see the headlights shine directly Into my eyes. The screaming Is deafening. They are approaching us head on. Closer and closer they become. ‘Gerard! ‘ I scream, hysterically.

    He shakes out of his momentary snooze and our car twists and turns and writhes across the narrow road, before exploding into the car of screaming and beeping. I am awoken by the sound of sirens. It is light and misty as I lay beneath a massive heap of scrap metal. I cannot see anything but black leather-clad feet and blue- slacked ankles. The grass underneath me is wet with dew, and my clothing is soaked… Walt blood. Joe Is suddenly whimpering painfully. I twist my bloody, gashed, bruised torso and dead to look at him.

    He Is covered In blood. HIS beautiful blue eyes are bruised purple and his arm turns inwards at a strange angle, as does his leg. Begins to cry again, louder this time. Ignoring his cries, I turn to Gerard. A thick, red liquid oozes from his mouth. At first it doesn’t register in my mind, but I soon realize it is blood. He is motionless and silent. I hear the shriek of a chainsaw above me. In the midst of this chaos I reach for Grade’s hand and held it softly. It would be the last time I could.

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