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I was running frantically through the dark, interwoven streets-the floral sundress my father bought me clinging to my thighs against the relentless wind. Tears were blurring my vision as I tried to brace myself for what was coming... what I knew was coming-it replayed constantly under my eyelids, like a horror movie with no end.

"Kayla!" I yelled into the open air, although I knew it was no good.

I rounded the familiar corner onto Lot Street and saw her all too quickly. The mascara she always took from my room was puddling on her cheeks as she stood shakily, waiting for an opening in the traffic so she could cross. Kayla's bottom lip quivered harshly when she glanced back and saw me. I took a hesitant step towards her and outstretched my arms. She gazed intently at the sidewalk, pondering her options. Shaking her head furiously, she dashed into the middle of the street.

I stood at the corner as she ran, overwhelmed by my shock and fear and...hate.

My head turned to the left mechanically. I knew what was going to happen, but I refused to believe it, hoping desperately that this time would be different- that I'd wake up and she'd be there, stealing my makeup yet again. Immobile, I watched as the truck sped toward my little sister. This can't be happening, I thought. Not again.

Kayla was frozen in the middle of the street, facing the oncoming threat.

The truck's horn was enough to snap me out of my trance-like state. It kept honking, getting louder and louder, pulling me into darkness as it neared her.

"Kayla!" I screamed hopelessly once more as the blackness embraced me.

* * *

Gasping for air, I shot upright in bed. I felt numb as I stared at the blank wall, the scene replaying in my head. I brought my knees up to my chest and wrapped my trembling hands around my legs. With a quavering breath, I wiped the beads of sweat from my forehead. In an effort to gain some semblance of comfort, I rested my head on the top of my knees and rocked gently back and forth. Fighting to get a grip on reality, I clicked off my beeping alarm clock.

"Oh, Kayla. I'm sorry," I whispered under my breath.

My stomach grumbled, pulling me out of my reverie. I licked my lips thinking about breakfast and made a face at the salty tang.

With a groan, I swung my legs to the side of my bed and jumped off. I landed with a soft thud and turned around to look at the bottom bunk of my bunk bed-our bunk bed.

My heart clenched as I saw the tidily folded sheets and neatly arranged stuffed animals. It was as if no one had slept there in a long time. Because nobody has, I thought. I shook my head and walked out of the room.

yes its quite long

At 7/17/10 02:35 AM, parkiawesome wrote:

At 7/16/10 06:35 PM, thomisback wrote: so the Catholics listen to a book witch was made by man that said it was wrong to me that's the bible authors opinion not some god dam law being put down why would you listen to book when you can listen to people

think what you want about "the book", but don't judge others opinion

not judging the opinion of others just saying is that why should a church shouldn't have control as freedom of religion shouldn't that mean freedom from a religion

so the Catholics listen to a book witch was made by man that said it was wrong to me that's the bible authors opinion not some god dam law being put down why would you listen to book when you can listen to people