Post by Zeb on Feb 24, 2006 20:04:25 GMT -5
“Bye Devon! See you tomorrow.”
I turned to the teenage girl that stood leaning against the doorway of the house, a soft smile on her face and a slight glint in her eyes. I felt the sides of my lips curl into a smile as I pulled open the car door.
“’Bye Amy.”
“D-drive safe, Devon.”
“I will, baby. Love you.”
“Love you too.”
With that final word, I left my girlfriend to clean up the rest of the mess that had been left behind by the party that had just taken place in her home. I slipped into the seat of my beat-up black Honda, sticking the key into the ignition and turned it. I placed two fingers to my lips and touched the cross that hung from my rear-view mirror, then waved to Amy.
As I began to back out of the driveway, I began to reminisce about the party. Everything had been going fine until Liam and his ‘I’m so popular ‘cause I’m a football star’ glory had brought the kegs of beer. Of course, Liam and the rest of the seniors had managed to coax all the sophomores who had been lucky enough to attend into having a few cups; that, of course, resulted in most of the juniors feeling left out and drinking some themselves. Before I knew it, we were dividing up the drunks among the few sober to start a slow taxi service. The only one who hadn’t taken part was Liam, who had passed out on the couch and had only recently woke up.
As I felt my tires go over the edge of the driveway, I heard Amy scream. Out of the corner I saw a bright, nearly blinding light.
“Love you too.”
I said softly in reply to Devon’s words as he got into the black Honda. I knew I should get to cleaning, but something told me that I should stay; some feeling of foreboding, like something bad would happen soon.
The party had ended an hour or so ago; Devon had come back to help clean up after he had taken a few carloads of drunk kids home. I watched him start the car, kissing the cross that his mother had given him for his seventeenth birthday a few weeks ago. It was somewhat a ritual for him; he had to kiss that cross before he could drive. I turned my attention to the other male that had just exited the house. It was Liam, star quarterback and the scumbag that had snuck beer into my party. I watched him as he staggered to his red sport car that was parked in the street.
He shouldn’t be driving, I thought, but dismissed it as I turned to see Devon off. I ignored Liam as he got into the car, turning on the engine, revving it, and taking off -- just as Devon was driving out of the driveway.
I screamed as the sport car hit Devon’s driver side door. The screech, the crash, and the sound of Liam’s panicked screams filled the night air as I stood frozen on the doorstep.
I remember waking up on some butt-ugly couch with oh-so-lovely permanent marker decorating my arms and suspiciously bare chest and a plastic flower taped to my forehead. I had been told all my life to never be the first to pass out. Yeah, like that did me any good now.
I located my shirt, which was tacked to a rotating ceiling fan. My head was throbbing too much to really care who did it; I just wanted my stupid shirt back. I grabbed the garment and ripped it from the swirling fan, shrugging it on. I ripped the flower unceremoniously from my forehead and stomped out of the house, pushing past the ‘hostess’ of the party. The girl gave me a dirty look. What had I done? Livened up her party, that’s what. The thanks I get.
I heard her and that dork boyfriend exchange a few words, like ‘love you’ and ‘drive safe’. Uck. I trudged across the lawn and jumped into the hot sport car that my dad had got me for my eighteenth. It was awesome -- fast and luxurious. I shoved the key into the ignition and revved the engine, pressing my foot to gas. The car shot forward just as what’s-his-face in the black jalopy pulled out of the driveway. I shoved my foot onto the brake, but it was too late. I hit the kid’s driver side door, sending the black car spinning.
My hands gripped the steering wheel so hard that my knuckles went white. The initial shock subsided quickly and I jumped from my car. “An ambulance!” I yelled to what’s-her-face, “9-1-1!!”
The girl looked at me. “Y-You killed him…” She said as she turned to go make the call.
The force of her words hit me worse than any linebacker could. Was he dead? I looked through the shattered window at the figure behind it, face cut up and eyes closed. He was dead.
Two weeks later, friends and family gathered at a church. The sunlight drifted cheerily through the stained glass windows, the birds twittered, and the sky was cloudless. The day was all but cheery, though; a rainy day, or at least a cloudy one, would have suited the group in the church better. They were there to mourn. The women cried, dabbing their eyes with handkerchiefs, and the men comforted their wives with forlorn looks on their faces. Groups of teens stood together crying with no segregation; freshmen hugged seniors, boys and girls comforted each other, blacks, whites, Asians, and Mexicans all gathered together to mourn the loss. It was how he would have wanted it: no descrimination.
Seated in the front row on the left side was a young woman, keeping herself away from the groups on purpose. Her black hair hung in her abnormally pale face, her blue eyes gazing dully at the casket that held her boyfriend. She kept her hands folded in her lap and her eyes on the floor.
To the right was a young man, dressed in a suit. His crew-cut blonde hair was perfect, as were his green eyes that stared, filled with tears, at the casket. He was the reason everyone was here. He had killed the boy.
Amy glanced over at Liam; he seemed to be taking Devon’s death the worst of anyone. That was understandable, though, seeing as he had killed him. The girl’s heart grew cold as she turned away from her boyfriend’s killer.
Before long, everyone settled into the pews. The room was far from quiet with people reminiscing about the young man, crying, and even talking bitterly about ‘that hoodlum that killed him’. The pastor stood, and the whole room quieted.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” He began somberly, “We are gathered here today to honor the memory of Devon May, a young man taken from us by a drunk driver.” Liam seemed to shrink in his seat at the pastor’s words. “Today, we gather in the knowledge that his soul rests in a place much better than this…”
The service was beautiful. Amy, every once in awhile, would steal a glance at Liam. The boy looked deeply troubled. Still, he didn’t say a word; that is, until the end of the service.
“Amy…” The funeral had ended and the people cleared out leaving just Liam and Amy in the church. “I…” Liam broke down into tears.
Amy was deeply surprised. Here was Liam, the surliest guy she knew, crying. The scene touched her heart. She moved over to sit beside him, placing an arm around his shoulders. “Its okay.” She said softly, “I forgive you.”
“H-How?” The boy cried, shrugging off her arm. “How can you forgive me? After what I did?”
Amy calmly placed her arm around him again. “I can forgive you because…” She paused for a moment, “I can see how deeply you are hurting, how sorry you are. I couldn’t stay mad at you when you’re this…”
“Pathetic?” Liam said, attempting to finish her sentence.
“No…” Amy said, hugging the young man, “This hurt, lost… needing.”
“What?”
“I forgive you, Liam, because I can see how badly you need to be forgiven, how badly you need to be loved.” Amy said as she hugged him tighter, “Liam, I can forgive you because I know that’s what Devon would want. So, no more tears now. Lets go out into the sunshine and say goodbye.”
“O-Okay.”
The two stood and walked outside together to the place where they were burying him. They watched in silence, waiting until everyone had left to talk again.
“Good bye Devon.” Liam said softly as Amy placed a slim lily on the grave. A sad smile dressed his lips as Amy straightened up.
“Good bye, Devon.” She said softly, a single tear rolling down her pale face, “I’ll see you soon, baby.”
I turned to the teenage girl that stood leaning against the doorway of the house, a soft smile on her face and a slight glint in her eyes. I felt the sides of my lips curl into a smile as I pulled open the car door.
“’Bye Amy.”
“D-drive safe, Devon.”
“I will, baby. Love you.”
“Love you too.”
With that final word, I left my girlfriend to clean up the rest of the mess that had been left behind by the party that had just taken place in her home. I slipped into the seat of my beat-up black Honda, sticking the key into the ignition and turned it. I placed two fingers to my lips and touched the cross that hung from my rear-view mirror, then waved to Amy.
As I began to back out of the driveway, I began to reminisce about the party. Everything had been going fine until Liam and his ‘I’m so popular ‘cause I’m a football star’ glory had brought the kegs of beer. Of course, Liam and the rest of the seniors had managed to coax all the sophomores who had been lucky enough to attend into having a few cups; that, of course, resulted in most of the juniors feeling left out and drinking some themselves. Before I knew it, we were dividing up the drunks among the few sober to start a slow taxi service. The only one who hadn’t taken part was Liam, who had passed out on the couch and had only recently woke up.
As I felt my tires go over the edge of the driveway, I heard Amy scream. Out of the corner I saw a bright, nearly blinding light.
“Love you too.”
I said softly in reply to Devon’s words as he got into the black Honda. I knew I should get to cleaning, but something told me that I should stay; some feeling of foreboding, like something bad would happen soon.
The party had ended an hour or so ago; Devon had come back to help clean up after he had taken a few carloads of drunk kids home. I watched him start the car, kissing the cross that his mother had given him for his seventeenth birthday a few weeks ago. It was somewhat a ritual for him; he had to kiss that cross before he could drive. I turned my attention to the other male that had just exited the house. It was Liam, star quarterback and the scumbag that had snuck beer into my party. I watched him as he staggered to his red sport car that was parked in the street.
He shouldn’t be driving, I thought, but dismissed it as I turned to see Devon off. I ignored Liam as he got into the car, turning on the engine, revving it, and taking off -- just as Devon was driving out of the driveway.
I screamed as the sport car hit Devon’s driver side door. The screech, the crash, and the sound of Liam’s panicked screams filled the night air as I stood frozen on the doorstep.
I remember waking up on some butt-ugly couch with oh-so-lovely permanent marker decorating my arms and suspiciously bare chest and a plastic flower taped to my forehead. I had been told all my life to never be the first to pass out. Yeah, like that did me any good now.
I located my shirt, which was tacked to a rotating ceiling fan. My head was throbbing too much to really care who did it; I just wanted my stupid shirt back. I grabbed the garment and ripped it from the swirling fan, shrugging it on. I ripped the flower unceremoniously from my forehead and stomped out of the house, pushing past the ‘hostess’ of the party. The girl gave me a dirty look. What had I done? Livened up her party, that’s what. The thanks I get.
I heard her and that dork boyfriend exchange a few words, like ‘love you’ and ‘drive safe’. Uck. I trudged across the lawn and jumped into the hot sport car that my dad had got me for my eighteenth. It was awesome -- fast and luxurious. I shoved the key into the ignition and revved the engine, pressing my foot to gas. The car shot forward just as what’s-his-face in the black jalopy pulled out of the driveway. I shoved my foot onto the brake, but it was too late. I hit the kid’s driver side door, sending the black car spinning.
My hands gripped the steering wheel so hard that my knuckles went white. The initial shock subsided quickly and I jumped from my car. “An ambulance!” I yelled to what’s-her-face, “9-1-1!!”
The girl looked at me. “Y-You killed him…” She said as she turned to go make the call.
The force of her words hit me worse than any linebacker could. Was he dead? I looked through the shattered window at the figure behind it, face cut up and eyes closed. He was dead.
Two weeks later, friends and family gathered at a church. The sunlight drifted cheerily through the stained glass windows, the birds twittered, and the sky was cloudless. The day was all but cheery, though; a rainy day, or at least a cloudy one, would have suited the group in the church better. They were there to mourn. The women cried, dabbing their eyes with handkerchiefs, and the men comforted their wives with forlorn looks on their faces. Groups of teens stood together crying with no segregation; freshmen hugged seniors, boys and girls comforted each other, blacks, whites, Asians, and Mexicans all gathered together to mourn the loss. It was how he would have wanted it: no descrimination.
Seated in the front row on the left side was a young woman, keeping herself away from the groups on purpose. Her black hair hung in her abnormally pale face, her blue eyes gazing dully at the casket that held her boyfriend. She kept her hands folded in her lap and her eyes on the floor.
To the right was a young man, dressed in a suit. His crew-cut blonde hair was perfect, as were his green eyes that stared, filled with tears, at the casket. He was the reason everyone was here. He had killed the boy.
Amy glanced over at Liam; he seemed to be taking Devon’s death the worst of anyone. That was understandable, though, seeing as he had killed him. The girl’s heart grew cold as she turned away from her boyfriend’s killer.
Before long, everyone settled into the pews. The room was far from quiet with people reminiscing about the young man, crying, and even talking bitterly about ‘that hoodlum that killed him’. The pastor stood, and the whole room quieted.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” He began somberly, “We are gathered here today to honor the memory of Devon May, a young man taken from us by a drunk driver.” Liam seemed to shrink in his seat at the pastor’s words. “Today, we gather in the knowledge that his soul rests in a place much better than this…”
The service was beautiful. Amy, every once in awhile, would steal a glance at Liam. The boy looked deeply troubled. Still, he didn’t say a word; that is, until the end of the service.
“Amy…” The funeral had ended and the people cleared out leaving just Liam and Amy in the church. “I…” Liam broke down into tears.
Amy was deeply surprised. Here was Liam, the surliest guy she knew, crying. The scene touched her heart. She moved over to sit beside him, placing an arm around his shoulders. “Its okay.” She said softly, “I forgive you.”
“H-How?” The boy cried, shrugging off her arm. “How can you forgive me? After what I did?”
Amy calmly placed her arm around him again. “I can forgive you because…” She paused for a moment, “I can see how deeply you are hurting, how sorry you are. I couldn’t stay mad at you when you’re this…”
“Pathetic?” Liam said, attempting to finish her sentence.
“No…” Amy said, hugging the young man, “This hurt, lost… needing.”
“What?”
“I forgive you, Liam, because I can see how badly you need to be forgiven, how badly you need to be loved.” Amy said as she hugged him tighter, “Liam, I can forgive you because I know that’s what Devon would want. So, no more tears now. Lets go out into the sunshine and say goodbye.”
“O-Okay.”
The two stood and walked outside together to the place where they were burying him. They watched in silence, waiting until everyone had left to talk again.
“Good bye Devon.” Liam said softly as Amy placed a slim lily on the grave. A sad smile dressed his lips as Amy straightened up.
“Good bye, Devon.” She said softly, a single tear rolling down her pale face, “I’ll see you soon, baby.”
