There's no real summary that's fitting for this story. The whole story won't be sad like this, trust me.
Scars
Prologue:
Rain poured from the clouds above me.
I rubbed my hands together, wishing I had brought a raincoat to my karate class. It wasn't cold and raining earlier. I pushed off of the wall, leaving my safe haven to the storm.
"Jaden, you want a ride home? It's getting pretty bad out." I turned and smiled at my friend Sam.
"Nah, I like walking home after class. It's a good cool down." My wet strawberry blond hair stuck to my face and my drenched karate gi stuck to my body.
"You sure? You never know what's out there…" I laughed and smiled at his cautiousness. I waved a hand out and began to turn, striding forward into the dark before me.
"Stop being such a worrywart. I'll text you when I get home." I adjusted the straps to my bag on my shoulders. My feet made a pitter patter sound each time I splashed into a puddle and the rain above me came down in a down pour. I walked on the sidewalk and squinted as car's lights blinded me. I promised my mom I would pick up some groceries for her at the store, so I took a left and headed down the next street.
I glanced at a couple trying to escape the rain. The woman held a newspaper over her head, trying to keep droplets from wetting her styled hair. It cascaded down her shoulders in blond waves, ending at the curve of her back. Her light pink colored nails glimmered in the light from the street lamps. I looked down at my short, cracked nails and callused hands. I wished I had time to polish and take care of my nails. If only my hands were in better condition.
But they weren't; I had been taking various martial arts classes since I was seven. My knuckles were constantly bruised and sometimes bloody, my arms were toned and muscled, my body lean and athletic. I looked up again at the blond lady and noticed the man helping her into the car. I looked back down at my hands and clenched them into fists. I wish I needed someone to protect me. I wish I didn't know how to make a fist. I wish I was a helpless blond that all the guys went out of there way to help. That thought it was cute when she would trip and blush. That thought it was attractive when she bit her lip and giggled.
I looked away from my hands and focused on the store in front of me. I dried my feet on the welcome mat and entered the store. I grabbed a jug of milk from a fridge in the back and a loaf of white bread from a shelf near the front. I then placed them on the register belt.
The cashier that rang up my items was a guy about five feet and ten inches. I looked up at him and sighed. I just couldn't fit any stereo type. I wasn't pretty and blond and I wasn't tall and tough. I was barely five feet and five inches tall. Most people didn't find it very intimidating when you have to stand on your tippy toes to see them straight in the eyes.
I laughed at my pettiness. I didn't need to fit into any stereo type! I had a decent life laid out for me. I was only fifteen and was already getting hundreds of college application letters. I was going to graduate high school two years early and go straight into the pre-med program at the University of Washington, which was rated the top pre-med school for the past sixteen years in a row. I would be completely trained by the time I turned twenty-eight and would be working as a surgeon.
"Four thirty-six," The cashier announced and I pulled a crumpled five dollar bill from my bag. He handed me the change and receipt and I stuff them into my pocket, grabbing the bags and leaving the store. It was still raining outside and the dark clouds were now covering the moon. I looked up into the sky, relishing the cold droplets that tickled my skin.
It was a decent life—more than decent even—but it was all planned out. I resumed my walking and slugged the plastic bags over my shoulder. My rebellious side wanted something different; something wilder; something adventurous. I wanted to jump out of a plane, eat real sushi, bungee jump, learn to fight with a sword, fall in love, and ultimately find an alternative to flying.
A car screeched and I pulled from my thoughts, jumping out of the way of a car. My heart pounded in my ears and adrenaline pushed through my veins. That could have turned out badly. What if I had died tonight? I would never finish high school. I would never finish college. I would never finish medical school. I would never become a surgeon. I would never finish reading Great Expectations, which I promised my mom three years ago I would. I would never accomplish the six things on my bucket list. I would never be able to tell Sam that I liked him.
I switched the plastic bags to my left hand, stretching and cracking the knuckles on my right hand. The street light above me flickered on and off before staying off. I heard a scream in the distance. My blood went cold and I instantly wished I had accepted Sam's offer to drive me home. I tightened my grip on the bag and took off, speeding down the sidewalk. I looked down the alley beside me, only darkness filling my vision.
I squinted my green eyes and within a few seconds I could make out the outlines of three figures. Two bulky looking men and a girl crouched over in the corner. The breath left my lungs. It was the same blond from earlier. Before I could think about what I was going to do, I yelled out, "Hey you! Stop picking on her and pick on someone your own size!" I also threw my grocery bags in there general direction. The milk jug literally exploded. What did I just do? The men instantly turned to me and a shiver went down my spine. Pick on someone your own size? Way to go, genius, you're half their size too!
My legs tensed to bolt back where I came from but then I heard the girl in the corner whimper. I glanced over at her and planted my feet securely on the ground. I had a better chance than she did.
"We can keep her for later," One of the men said and I clenched my fists, willing myself not to follow my girlish instincts and high tail it out of there. The men approached me and droplets of sweat rolled down my neck, mingling with the rain drops still flowing from the clouds.
Run! Run! Run! What the hell are you doing! Fucking run! My brain screamed at me. I was being stupid, thinking I could stand up to these guys. I should have just continued on my way home. I could've ignored the scream and—my eyes looked back at the blond girl, cowering in the corner. She had a family too; people waiting at home for her. She had hope and dreams, just like every one else. I looked back at the men, new determination in my eyes.
The shorter man with a beard lunged for me. I side stepped to the side and grabbed his exposed wrist, pulling it into a lock behind his back. I heard the air stutter in his lungs. Ha, I had the advantage of surprise. The taller man made a growling sound and pulled out a knife. My eyes grew large. I pushed the shorter man into him. A cut suddenly appeared above my right eye brow. The man had knicked me on his way down. Blood escaped the slash and I looked back at the two men to see the knife had disappeared into the darkness. My body weight automatically set on my ankles, ready to turn and run, but I searched again for the blond girl.
She was making her way out of the alley, slowly, sniffles and whimpers still sounding from her. She was three fourths of the way out. A hand grabbed my hair and I screamed in response. "Not so tough now, huh?" My pulse quickened and my head started to throb. The shorter man laughed and reached for me. I didn't fight my instinct, kicking out violently like the girl I was. One of my feet—I have no idea which—landed and I heard the guy swear, step back, and hold his nose.
"You fucking bitch!" Here goes all or nothing! I twisted painfully in the taller man's grasp, and kicked him where the sun don't shine. He dropped to the ground and I turned to the shorter man, pulling off one of my shoes and pelting it at his unprotected face. Another curse rang through the air. I backed up a few feet and looked again for the girl. She was gone—safe. That's my cue to run. I turned on my heels and sprinted for dear life.
I ran out of the alley and turned onto the sidewalk. My feet splashed through the puddles noisily and my socked foot got very cold and wet very quickly. I had slightly more important things to worry about, though. I suddenly took a sharp turn to the right and glanced behind me.
The two men were running behind me, catching up to my labored pace. My breath caught in my throat. This cannot be happening to me! I glanced around; the only light around me was coming from infrequent cars passing by at nearly sixty miles an hour. I ditched my backpack and bolted off full speed. Those things were replaceable.
I worked hard, attempting to balance myself and not slip on the puddles. I remembered reading the beginner drivers manual, glad I had a photographic memory. Hydroplaning (a.k.a. skidding) is worst during the first fifteen minutes of a rain storm. It had been raining for much more than that so I at least had that advantage.
I skidded to the left, forgetting getting home and focusing on getting to somewhere with light and lots of people. I sprinted across the crosswalk and narrowly missed getting hit in the side with a car. I slid to the sidewalk and glanced behind me again. The only thing separating those men and me was that car. I clenched my hands into fists, turned, and ran.
My breathing was labored and my muscles were aching. I had had a double class of martial arts that day, going from kung fu to karate. I regretted taking both classes and wished I had saved some energy. But no, I had to be an overachiever!
Almost to the central square! I pushed my last energy into me legs and prayed I didn't topple over. I could hear the men's loud footfalls behind me. What the hell had I done? I didn't deserve this! But then again, the girl in the alley didn't deserve it either. Life just wasn't fair that way.
A small smile slipped onto my face as I came within a block of the plaza. All I had left was to cross one more street and continue forward. The plaza is less than a minute away! Apparently, so was my death. As I was sprinting across the crosswalk, a car was speeding down the street. The impact sent me flying backwards a good twenty feet, my body crumpling down into my own blood splattered across the wet road.
My blood mingled with the mini rivers of rain, tinting it red and making a gruesome scene. The car skidded to a stop, nearly hitting a brick wall. The person jumped out of there car and started screaming for help, for nine eleven, for anything. The men who had been chasing me retraced their steps and turned into an alley. A crowd started to form around my battered body.
All the movies, the books, the stories, they were right—your life does end in a flash. One minute I'm running for my life, and the next a pair of headlights flash in my vision. The next moment I go into cardiac arrest and suddenly, I stop living and start just being. Blackness surrounds me…no light, no colors, just a lonely empty feeling. I vaguely remember hearing people around me. I heard a siren in the distance. I heard the person who hit me scream and cry, spewing apologies. It's not your fault, I wanted to tell her. My body was too busy convulsing to be able to speak.
"Move away! Out of the way! Back up!" I hear someone say—footsteps stumbling out of the way of whoever the man was. Suddenly a gasp sounds beside me, followed by a quiet, "Oh my, God."
Tears sprung at my eyes—that much I know. I was so wrong before when I listed the things I would wish I had done. Never finishing a trivial book? Never finishing the things on my bucket list? A strangled sound escaped my mouth, one that was supposed to be a laugh. Those things are things that will never really matter. Ever. Saying goodbye to my mom and dad—that's what matters. Saying I loved my dad even though he never supported me, even though he wanted a son—that's what matters. Getting to greet my baby brother when he is born in a month—that's what matters. Stopping the tears I knew my mom would be crying over me, stopping the guilt I knew my dad would feel over my death, beating up the people that would try to bully my brother—those things mattered. And Sam, oh Sam, how I hope what we had wasn't love and that you can get over me easily. All of this is my fault, anyways.
More sirens and wailing filled my ears. All of these tears and time spent for me? Go home—go back to where people are waiting for you. I'm already halfway gone. Suddenly a new voice enters the crowd, a voice I know very well. "Oh honey, no! No! My baby!"
Mom, no! Don't see me like this. Remember me how I was before—not the rebellious teenager who wanted to do extreme dare devil stunts—but as the perfect daughter I saw through your eyes. Small white specks entered my vision and I tried to lift my hand to reach them. My body hemorrhaged, shocks of electricity going through my now cold veins. "She's gone, ma'am. I'm sorry…there was nothing we could do."
Goodbye, mom—you were always supportive of me. Goodbye, dad—you always pushed me to do my best. Goodbye, brother—I'm sure you would have been the best little brother in the world. Goodbye, Sam—I'm sure one of us would have finally gained the courage to ask the other on a date. Goodbye, blond girl—have a good life and marry that guy you were with earlier. He looked like a keeper. Goodbye, friends—you were always there when I needed you. I'm sorry I'm not good with words and could never tell you all how much you really ment to me. Goodbye…goodbye all of you...I'll...I'll miss you.
That's when my heart officially stopped beating—October 12th of the year 2010, at 11:27:57 pm.