I run down the stairs begging my mom for a doll. "Please momma! Can we get it for my 10th birthday!?!"
"Okay honey, but this is your last present!"
"Yay ma!!" I beam
We get in the blue honda ready to buy me my NEW American Girl Doll!
I race to the front seat "can I sit here today?"
"Okay hon, but don't tell your father" she whispers the last part.
I start to sing to my favorite song, screaming at the top of my lungs.
My mom looks at me with her green eyes gleaming. We sing together till the end of the song.
"We're almost there!"
"Yay!" i scream at the top of my 10 year old lungs can scream.
Mamma looks at me and says "...
Before she can even say her first word, my head flys forward. I close my eyes shut from the pain in my head.
I open my eyes to see something that can never leave my head again, my moms face. Her mouth is dripping with blood, her head is ripped in the ear to the mouth. Her eyes are out of her sockets, but her hands are protecting me. Shielding me from a lot of pain.
I cry out my moms name "MOM"
"WAKE UP!"
I hear a voices of people outside the car "Call 911" "We need to get them out of the car!"
"MOM" I keep screaming not caring about the pain in my body. Tears streaming down my face, I keep begging my mom to wake up. Facing my worst nightmares, I realise
my mom
my best friend....
my everything gone.
"Get her out" I hear, but barley.
Starring into my dead moms eyes, I couldn't think, can't hear. I think of all the memories, all the times she helped me.
I get grabbed by my arm, I don't resist. I can't feel anything anyway.
"Shes out! I don't know if the mom lived" someone says, I can't even look at the person. My vision filled with tears, as I see fire starting in the car.
I try my best to scream, to tell them to help my mom, to wake me up from this nightmare. But I can't even open my mouth. I feel like it is tied shut.
As they pull me away, I see my mom getting enveloped in flames. Eating her skin, that's when my mouth opens.
I scream, again, and again, till they put me in an ambulance.
I close my eyes ready to follow in my moms foot prints. The pain is unbearable, but the mental pain is worse.
The women who would play with me, cook for me, made me smile, is dead.
The worst part is, it's because of me.