Welcome Visitor: Login to the siteJoin the site

Small Smile

Book By: CopieCat
Thrillers



It’s dark out as I look at the vibrant lights from out of my window. Kathie is driving at her usual speedy pace and I can see the reflection of the green and red stoplights from her glasses. She doesn't like driving at night, or at all for that matter. I turn to look at her tiny figure; she’s so small and fragile. Her fingers are tightly gripping the steering wheel as if the van is going to take control and rip right out of her grasp. It’s a pity she doesn’t let me drive; it’d be more fitting if she rode passenger and I took control. But she won’t have that; apparently I do much more than I should already for us.


Submitted:Jun 3, 2013    Reads: 28    Comments: 0    Likes: 0   


It's dark out as I look at the vibrant lights from out of my window. Kathie is driving at her usual speedy pace and I can see the reflection of the green and red stoplights from her glasses. She doesn't like driving at night, or at all for that matter. I turn to look at her tiny figure; she's so small and fragile. Her fingers are tightly gripping the steering wheel as if the van is going to take control and rip right out of her grasp. It's a pity she doesn't let me drive; it'd be more fitting if she rode passenger and I took control. But she won't have that; apparently I do much more than I should already for us.

I glance back at Lew. His pale face is soft and his round eyes are lightly shut. He has been wrapped up overly tight in his cheap velcro car seat by Kathie and this gives me a tiny smile. I can hear his slow steady breathing and I suddenly feel very much at peace.

I turn back around to see headlights shining closer than they should be. I shoot a confused look at Kathie, only to see her already facing me with her big doe eyes full of sadness. And then I'm whirled through a haze of light and surrounded by metallic screeches and the sharp scent of burning rubber. I'm jerked in all directions, only aware of the pain, so much pain.

I'm shot forward.

Then there's nothing.

Nothing but the sound of an empty horror-filled cry that can only belong to a child.





0

| Email this story Email this Book | Add to reading list



Reviews

About | News | Contact | Your Account | TheNextBigWriter | Self Publishing | Advertise

© 2013 TheNextBigWriter, LLC. All Rights Reserved. Terms under which this service is provided to you. Privacy Policy.