Hey guys(: my best friend got hit by a car last year, and this goes out to him. I want to note that I have no idea where this story will go..
Disclaimer: I'm not Lisi Harrison.
I remember the day perfectly.
It was 5:30 on a Friday afternoon; football season had just ended and I was at the freshman baseball game. My boyfriend was playing, and I promised him that I would come watch.
Because I had arrived late and there were no seats left in the bleachers, i had to stand by the fence. I was a little annoyed but, thinking back on it now, I knew if I would have arrived a little while earlier I would have had a seat and wouldn't have seen everything happen as clear as I had.
It all happened so fast after that.
The ball flew over the fence and rolled across the street to a sidewalk; I heard that familiar voice and the skinny boy hop over the fence and run to get the baseball.
"It's cool coach, I got it!"
I watched, frozen, as my boyfriend picked up the dirty white ball and ran back across the street, not bothering to look both ways.
As if it came out of nowhere, a large, white, Ford truck sped forward, going thirty miles an hour. The truck was coming at the perfect angle, so that when my boyfriend managed to look at it, it was too late.
The large mirror rammed into his side and all I could do was watch as he flew up and shattered the windshield. I could barely hear my own screaming voice as I ran out through the dugout onto the field.
"Todd!"