Maybe it's best this way. I'm alone always anyways. I don't
really care anymore. I've lived a useless short life.
I walk down the street, I fail to notice the car racing towards
me. I give the driver an awkward look and look him right in the
eyes before I flew into the air. He didn't even bother to stop to
see if I was okay. "Rude." I utter.
I lay on the gravel. I'm too tired to get up. My entire body
burns with pain. A woman is screaming now and soon people start
chattering. "Call an ambulance! " someone yells.
Then I feel like I'm falling. The sounds start to slip out of my
ears and I feel peaceful. I begin to cry and I don't understand
I look up but I don't see anything. Am I done? It's
"Yes, David. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." A man is speaking to me.
I wipe my tears and stay lying on the ground. Or is it a cloud?
The man's voice. "David, would you like to come with me?" A warm
hand closes around my own.
I feel an invisible hand wrap lightly around my finger. "David.
Come play!" A little boy.
Maxie? I hear my little brother's laughter fill my heart. "Play,
David!" I'm dead. I must be. I'm crying again.
"My little David." A soft brush against my cheek tells me that's
my mother for sure. My father, my mother and Max. I'm with them
again. I lift my hands, trying to reach the white sky. "Let me
come with you."
"Yay!" Max laughs take grabs my finger. Mother kisses my forehead
and takes my hand. Father tassels my hair and takes my other
hand. They lift me up and now I'm happy again. It's best this
way. And I don't regret my life after they passed.
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