the big issue

Crash is the sound I hear. I quickly grab my brother. He was hit in the crash. I throw him out my door just before I get out. I grab my phone and call 911. The ambulance arrives. I help them take my brother in the car, and they drive away with me running. I trip. Bang, I hear as my head hits the pavement. I reach for my phone. Dang. It broke when it hit the pavement. My vision is fading. I prepare myself for a bright light, but it doesn’t come. Then I pass out. I wake up in the hospital next to my brother, who isn’t moving. I’m worried. The doctor comes in.

I ask him, “What happened?”

He says I fell, but I don’t understand. I have fallen before. Why is this different?

Then I ask, “Is my brother okay?”

He says, “He’s fine, just in a coma.”

Then I ask, “Where are my parents?”

He says, “Outside.”

Then I say, “Wait, what happened to my brother?”

He says, “He was with you in the car.”

I say, “I wasn’t hurt?”

He says, “You were not.”

“How about my parents?” I say.

He says, “Your parents were not harmed.”

Three days later… 

“But Mom, I don’t want a new car. I will not get in it in my whole life.”

“Yes you will,” says Mom.

“No I won’t,” I say.

“Okay, no dinner for you,” says Mom.

“Fine, I would rather not eat than take another chance at death,” I say.

Four days later… 

“Fine, I’ll get in the car,” I say as I take a load of food and put it on my plate.

One day later… 

I get in the car, horrified of what happened one week ago.

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