chopped fucking liver (cecidi) wrote in fishtank,
chopped fucking liver
cecidi
fishtank

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repost from old journal

there wasn't enough time for the car to swerve. the force of the impact threw her body ten feet into the air. she landed with a sickening thud, dead even before she hit the pavement.

he got out, knees trembling, tears streaming down his face, near-hysteria etched prominently on his features. he kept slapping himself in the face as if to forcefully wake him up to stop the nightmare that just happened. the bright red welts did nothing but magnify the horridness of the situation.

tentatively he walked towards the now-crumpled, misshapen body of a once living creature.

his eyes, scanning the ground, he saw her parcels scattered along the road, a bag here, a book, a watch that looked oddly familiar. he stopped and picked it up, thinking how odd it was that it seemed intact. he held it to his ear, the faint ticking indicating that it has survived the tragedy.

he stood up straight again and continued walking towards her.

cars were whizzing past him, oblivious to his pain, her death.

thoughts of incarceration danced inside his head. that he could bear, that he could survive. but what about his jenny? how would she take this, how would she regard him, now that he has carelessly taken a life? the possibility of them separating because he was too stupid to pay attention to the road was eating him up with fear.

she would be frantic with worry. dinner would be cold by the time he makes it home.

with jenny on his mind, he walked faster. his motions mechanical, his thoughts already going through the procedure of picking her up, calling for help and then calling jenny to tell her to meet him at the police station.

three feet, two, one... he forced his eyes to look at the broken form on the pavement. what he saw took his breath away, and he fell down on his knees, his cries like that of an animal caught in a trap of metal teeth.

it took a long time before he could function again. he walked slowly to his car, picked up his phone and dialed a number.

"hello, 911? i'd like to report an accident. yes.. i'm at route 23 just past the all-night mart. a woman has been hit... yes... yes.. i will wait. what? oh of course, my name is brandon peterson and the woman's name is jenny... jenny carlson... my jenny."

i'm moving all my stories to this lj... so forgive the multiple postings
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