English literature is the worst thing ever invented. How am I suppose to write a 5,000 word essay overnight? I don't understand. Our teacher treats us like animals. She sees how much she can play with us until we get hurt.
"Honey, we're going out now," my father called up the stairs. I shut my laptop and slipped on my white Vans. It was my mother's birthday so we were heading to Applebee's. I was already dressed in soft pink jeans and a pink floral top. My hair was in a really nice fish tail braid.
I had on my Apple watch, a pair of diamond earrings, and my personal charm bracelet. My makeup was nice, light brown eyeshadow with mascara and thin eyeliner. I grabbed my iPhone 11 and made my way down my stairs.
My beautiful mother stood there in a tight black dress and my father was in a nice dress shirt with jeans. My father was handsome and my mother was beautiful. I don't know where I got MY looks from.
"Oh good, you're ready. Let's go get some yummy food," my mother smiled and opened the front door. We all got into my father's black challenger, my father driving. Since my dad was pretty tall, he had to lean his seat back. I sat behind my mother because I wanted some more leg room.
"Sweetheart, any boys that you're interested in yet?" My mother smiled at me. "Better not be," my father grumbled. I laughed and said, "you know my plan mother. Wait until college for a suitable boyfriend," I smiled back at her. "I can't believe it, one more week and you'll be finished with high school!"
"Yep, then off to Yale I go." "New York is so beautiful! I can't wait!" My mom screamed. "You're not the one going to college, Christine," my father chuckled. "I know, but there's always a reason to visit our daughter!"
"Well we're here," my father smiled. We all got out of the car and walked into the restaurant. We skipped the line and went to our awaiting table. We ordered our drinks and my mother had a devilish smile on her face.
"Mozzarella sticks?" She smirked. "Of course," my father and I said at the same time. We all laughed and looked at the menu. We ordered the mozzarella sticks and our meals.
We ate our food and joked around a lot. We were sitting in that booth for an hour and half. My mother sat their devouring her chocolate lava cake. "Mine and mine only," she smiled at us. We all laughed and enjoyed the moment.
Once my mother was finished with her dessert, we all headed back to the car. We were back on the road and my father put on The Beatles radio station. I started singing along and my mother joined me. My father then jumped in and sang with us as well.
I saw bright lights from the left side and then nothing.
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I woke up in a hospital room with an IV. My mother was next to me holding my hand, crying. "Mother, what happened? Why are you crying? I'm fine!" I smiled at her.
"I know you're fine, sweetie, but your father is not," she continued to cry. "Mom. What happened?" She looked at me then looked away. "Your father is dead, Vanessa. He had internal bleeding from the accident and they couldn't save him," she choked out.
I couldn't believe it. He can't be dead. He was just singing Blackbird in our car on our way home from my mother's birthday dinner. "Mom, what-"
The nurse walked in and smiled at me. "Good day, miss Sanchez," the nurse greeted. Boy was he handsome. Beautiful brown hair and eyes with stubble on his chin. Stop- that's illegal. You're only 17. "Good day," I smiled back.
"You had no severe injuries in the car accident. You did get a slight concussion though. You hit head on that glass pretty hard. If you don't mind, I'd like to look at the stitches," he smiled. "Stitches?" I asked confused.
"Yeah, the glass on the car broke and some got into your thigh. A firefighter pulled you out of the car and your body brushed against the door, causing the glass to go deeper into your thigh. It's strange how it go their, due to you wearing jeans, but crazy things happen," he chuckled at the end.
He is so hot. No. No he's not. I looked at my thigh, but it was covered up by my hospital gown. "If you don't mind, I need to check on it and clean it up a little bit," the nurse smiled. Oh, I don't mind. Yes, yes I do mind. What is wrong with me.
I nodded my head and he smiled back at me. My mother left the room, due to her uneasiness at the sight of blood. The nurse grabbed a cotton ball, a bottle of peroxide, and a dropper. He sat on my left side and started lifting up my gown.
I immediately stopped him, feeling uncomfortable. "Sorry, just trying to get to your stitches," he said with a look of worry in his eyes. I nodded, signaling him to continue. He lifted my gown to the middle of my thigh. A nice cut was in my leg, about 4 inches long.
He put the dropper in the bottle of peroxide then hovered it above my stitches. He dropped some onto my wound and white bubbles started fizzing up. It was fascinating and I smiled. The nurse dabbed the bubbles away and looked at me.
"The bubbles are the germs that the peroxide is getting rid of," he told me. I nodded and he stood up, pulling my gown back down. "Some clothes and your belongings are in that bag right there. Once you change, you are free to go. Your mom already filled out your paperwork."
The nurse left and I grabbed the clothes. A black baggy shirt and some grey sweatpants. I put the clothes on I actually liked them. My shoes were also in the bag and I put them on, along with my earrings, bracelet and my watch.
I grabbed my phone and walked out to the reception area. I saw my mother crying and I walked over to her. "Oh, sweetie, let's go," she said while she grabbed my hand. She walked me to her wrangler and we got inside. She must've drove here after the incident.
We drove home in silence and I silently cried against the passenger side window.
When we got home I ran inside and up to my room. I took of the shirt and pants and grabbed some of my pajamas. I put on my baby blue silk top and my baby blue silk short shorts. I took my braid out and let my long hair flow freely, cascading down to my butt.
I took off my Vans and put on some white fuzzy socks. I was about to take off my makeup when a loud pounding started at my front door.