by Ian Fringe
She looked so lovely there, standing with the wind blowing through her beautiful blond hair. She was all that I could see. She became my world. This was the reason I failed to see the car speeding around the curve heading towards her. There she was in front of me one second and then the next second there she was laying in a pool of her own blood. I could not move. My whole world had just been taken from me. How is it that this fool thought he could have a joy ride and not hurt anyone?
He staggered out of the car, which now lays halfway through a brick fence. He had been wearing his seatbelt, a device that can save lives, just not the right ones. He was so drunk that he did not understand the full impact of his choice. It was not until he saw her lying there that his drunkenness turned to vomit. How is it that he is to live when she is to die, and in such a horrific way? What grand puppet master pulled these strings?
The police and ambulance finally came, parting the growing crowd of horrified onlookers. She was put into a bag after her outline was traced in chalk. I told the authorities what happened; I told them about the horrid atrocity that had occurred here today. It was then dark; I had been there since deep in the afternoon.It was time to go home, they told me, time to recover.
I went home and lay in my bed curled in a ball. I lay there all night; my mind entrenched in thought. I had loved her so long. So often I had watched her from my parked vehicle. So many times I had followed her as she went her way to work. I knew everything about her: her hobbies, the movies she loved and the names of her family. Her sembalence was plastered across my wall creating a sea of her faces. Such a tragic thing to have happened, especially on the day I was finally going to introduce myself.