I died. I knew that for sure. I was driving my car to school then suddenly a giant truck was hauling towards me. It was a wrong way driver. The driver was probably just tired and dozed off, but it cost me my life and maybe even theirs. It all came so fast. There's not much I remember about it. At least I died almost instantly. No pain; that's what I had to be thankful for. I didn't leave much behind. I left my parents, but that's it. I didn't really have too many friends, and the ones I did would probably not even notice I was gone. I was an only child. I grew up very close to my parents; I told them everything. But I didn't tell them that I was depressed and I felt alone and hollow. The last few months of my miserable life I started to seperate from them. Our relationship wasn't good anymore.
I never went to parties, or social gatherings. I barely hung out with anyone my age apart from my cousins on certain holidays. Pathetic, I know. I just hung out in my room with the door closed and sometimes the window open. I used to be really into music, but the lyrics slowly started to mean nothing to me anymore. It was like I wasn't even capable to feel the emotions that the singers would belt out. I didn't know how to relate to it. I just stayed in my rrom, usually drawing or reading. Sometimes I played my keyboard, and sometimes I even sang. But those days were better than the ones I had just a few weeks before I died. In that time, I got bored of everything. The books weren't relating to me, the drawings became tasteless, and I never really liked to ing anyways. I just layed on my bed usually, looking at the ceiling. Just thinking. That's what my life had come to. No one noticed. Not even my parents. The kids at school have always thought I wasn't talkative, so when it came to the time I actually didn't talk, they never noticed.
I had felt so alone and empty. There was no one I could talk to. All my parents talked about when they were around me was college. And how I was going to do it right out of high school, getting my teaching degree. That's what they thought I wanted, because I mentioned it once when I was fourteen. The truth was, I didn't want to grow up. I didn't want to go to college, or high school for that matter. I wanted to be a kid. Well, not exactly a kid, but just a person who didn't have to worry. Who didn't have to think about their future and how everything you do now could either make it or break it. So yeah, a kid. I just wanted to get away. And I guess that's what I got.