Sequel: Life After Death ›
Status: Sequel, Life After Death, is currently posted!
Accidents Can Happen
Chapter 19
I drove through traffic like an insane person, only slowing down when I realized that I was in a stolen car. When I was a few blocks from my house, I parked the car in a restaurant's parking lot and got out of the car. I as I walked, I took the hat out of my pocket and put it on my head, tucking my green hair up in to it. As my house came into clearer view, I noticed that both my parents' vehicle weren't there. The house was located in South Boston on the corner of Tudor and Lily. South Boston wasn't the best neighborhood in America but it's quality had improved in the past few years. It was mostly known for it's large Irish background. There was an Irish bar on almost every street corner in South Boston.
Our house was a modest townhouse that had been originally built in 1890. When I was sure no one was watching, I walked quickly up to the front door. Using the spare key that had been placed under the old welcome mat I let myself into the house. My footsteps make an eerily noise against the dark hardwood floor, as I walked through the house. Everything was the same as I remembered it, except that it was extremely clean. Which was odd because my mother was never a big fan of house work. After grabbing a drink from the refrigerator, I walked upstairs to my room.
My room was a mess, which was how I left it. I, too, wasn't a big fan of cleaning. Random articles of clothing, both clean and dirty, lined the floor. The bed was unmade and posters of my favorite bands and celebrities lined most of the white wall. It was your typical teenager's room. But the amount of dust in the room told me that my mom and dad weren't big visitors to it. But there was something that didn't belong in the room. It was small but it was easily noticeable, which was due to the fact that it wasn't covered in inched of dust. A open white envelope laid on the desk on top of a large book. I pick it up, sat down on my bed and pulled the single piece of notebook paper out. The paper was bent and wrinkled, like some had constantly re-read and refolded it. When I unfolded it, I noticed that it was my handwriting staring back at me. It was my writing but not my words.
Dear Mom and Dad,
By the time you read this it will be too late, for I have already jumped off the Boston Bridge into the Charles River. I have done this for my own reasons, which I will not burden you with. Nothing you could have said would have changed my decision. I didn't mean to cause you any pain by doing this and I hope you can forgive me.
Love, Lorna.
I was in so much shock, I dropped the bottle of water I was holding and it poured on to the floor. "Shit." I picked up the bottle and dried the floor using a shirt that was lying near by. I read over the letter again and again, amazed at how cheesy it sounded. Couldn't the government come up with anything better? I thought to myself. I put the letter back where I found and walked back downstairs. Now that I had answers to two of my questions, I searched the house looking for more.
Our house was a modest townhouse that had been originally built in 1890. When I was sure no one was watching, I walked quickly up to the front door. Using the spare key that had been placed under the old welcome mat I let myself into the house. My footsteps make an eerily noise against the dark hardwood floor, as I walked through the house. Everything was the same as I remembered it, except that it was extremely clean. Which was odd because my mother was never a big fan of house work. After grabbing a drink from the refrigerator, I walked upstairs to my room.
My room was a mess, which was how I left it. I, too, wasn't a big fan of cleaning. Random articles of clothing, both clean and dirty, lined the floor. The bed was unmade and posters of my favorite bands and celebrities lined most of the white wall. It was your typical teenager's room. But the amount of dust in the room told me that my mom and dad weren't big visitors to it. But there was something that didn't belong in the room. It was small but it was easily noticeable, which was due to the fact that it wasn't covered in inched of dust. A open white envelope laid on the desk on top of a large book. I pick it up, sat down on my bed and pulled the single piece of notebook paper out. The paper was bent and wrinkled, like some had constantly re-read and refolded it. When I unfolded it, I noticed that it was my handwriting staring back at me. It was my writing but not my words.
Dear Mom and Dad,
By the time you read this it will be too late, for I have already jumped off the Boston Bridge into the Charles River. I have done this for my own reasons, which I will not burden you with. Nothing you could have said would have changed my decision. I didn't mean to cause you any pain by doing this and I hope you can forgive me.
Love, Lorna.
I was in so much shock, I dropped the bottle of water I was holding and it poured on to the floor. "Shit." I picked up the bottle and dried the floor using a shirt that was lying near by. I read over the letter again and again, amazed at how cheesy it sounded. Couldn't the government come up with anything better? I thought to myself. I put the letter back where I found and walked back downstairs. Now that I had answers to two of my questions, I searched the house looking for more.