So hi. I hold out the smallest of hopes that maybe some of the people who read my first fic will also be die-hard DEH fans such as myself, but I know that might not be the case. But anyway, hello to all my fellow Dear Evan Hansen fans reading this right now. It is here that I tell you random crap you don't actually care about and epically fail at trying to be comedic.
As I'm sure you know, as much as I'd like to, I do not own the masterpiece that is Dear Evan Hansen. I do, however, own my single oc and for that I am proud.
All relationships within this story are canon, but they are not the focal point of this story. So please, I beg of you, don't toss it aside on account of that.
That's all I really have to say at the moment, so enjoy!
He'd left in a hurry.
After showing himself out without any of the things he'd walked in with Evan Hansen walked down the street, leaving the Murphy house in the distance.
Bitter cold nipping at him, freezing him to his very core he trudged up in the direction of his own house.
He wasn't focused.
He couldn't focus on anything if he tried, he had literally just lost every person who ever cared about him.
Despite everything that should have brought him back to earth, the dog barking at him through the window of an ugly 1950's era house, the screaming of a couple arguing with each other for the fifth time that month, the of the car coming down the street towards him, Evan remained hunched over, hands stuffed in the pockets of his jeans, his eyes looking only at his feet.
He didn't really even feel the impact, not at first at least.
He didn't feel as he rolled up on top of the car and down the back but then the unbearable pain of many, too many, broken bones and hurt muscles hit him.
The drunk driving the car didn't seem to process the incident until after Evan was lying nearly unconscious on the ground behind his car.
Doors slammed as people ran out of their houses wanting an explanation as to why some guy was screaming, "Oh my God!" at the top of his lungs at eight o'clock at night.
They looked to the car, still running, in the middle of the street, then to the drunk, and finally at Evan, bloodied to the point where he was almost unrecognizable.
No one seemed to know what to do.
It was as if time had frozen, a mere three blocks from the house where Heidi Hansen was awaiting the return of her son, unknowing of the fact that he had just been hit by a crappy, beaten up, puke green, once very fashionable Ford Escort.
Awaiting the chance to apologize for not seeing the pain that had been and perhaps still was residing in her boy.
Her Evan.
God, she felt like such an idiot.
An utter failure at being a parent.
She had let the boy excited by the presence of a truck in his driveway be driven into the depths of depression.
She had no idea how long it would be until she actually got the chance to say this to her son.
Meanwhile, back in the middle of the street three blocks away, one woman reacted.
With hair of gold and a stout figure, she ran back inside her perfectly symmetrical house.
Grabbing her phone, dialed the number she never thought she'd need, the number no person ever hopes they'll need, and pressed the phone urgently to her ear.
It was about three and a half minutes after telling the operator what she knew and demanding an ambulance that the bright flashing of red and blue turned appeared outside her house.
Heidi had watched the lights pass through the curtains of her living room window and made the mistake of completely ignoring them.
It was highly probable that the bloodied body the blonde watched be surrounded by paramedics already dead.
She didn't know them.
She didn't consider herself antisocial, but she most certainly didn't go door to door checking up on her neighbors, and they didn't do this to her.
She had fit right in when she had moved here.
However horrific it may seem, the possible death of the person in front of her house was quite possibly the most exciting thing that could happen to her.
She could be the reason that someone would live tonight.
That thought is what drove her to make the decision that would ultimately change her life in ways she could never even have imagined.
So what'd ya think? Any good? I do full intent on finishing this, no matter how long it takes me, and if no one even wants me too. Don't expect me to keep up with an update schedule, I can never keep up with them.
Wow, I sound very formal and get to the point like. Ugh. Review if you'd like, they're always appreciated, but I won't beg for them.
Thanks for reading all this
Wezenstyx