This isn't the end. It isn't the beginning, either. But, it could well be the beginning of the end.
My brother doesn't have any brothers. My brother doesn't have any sisters. My brother is an only child. Because my brother, Zack, survived.
I was 8 five years ago. I was 8 when I died. I was 8 when that car crashed. I was 8 when my brother survived.
It hurt when the car crashed. It hurt when I left. It hurt when I died. It hurt a lot.
I didn't like the pain. I didn't like the guilt. I didn't like the feeling. I didn't like my brother.
I wanted to grow up. I wanted to see it all. I wanted to have a family. I wanted to live.
It isn't fair that the car crashed. It isn't fair that I died. It isn't fair that I missed it. It isn't fair at all.
My brother doesn't have any brothers. My brother doesn't have any sisters. My brother is an only child. Because Zack wasn't there, when I died.
Zack Martin stepped into the graveyard and threw the flowers he was holding onto Sarah's grave. It was a tiny, soil covered space which wasn't decorated apart from the two tulips (her favourite flowers, he remembered with a smile) and the headstone, reading;
Sarah Martin, beloved sister and friend
Zack sighed. There was nothing he could do to fix this. He shouldn't have let his sister get into the car with his drunken dad, no matter how hard he punched Zack or pulled Sarah. He tried, God knows he tried, but his dad was too strong. Every time Zack hit him, he'd just hit back harder. And eventually, Zack gave in. Everything would be fine in the morning; he'd wake up to find his sister, seven years his younger, sleeping peacefully in the room beside him.
But when Zack woke up at 1 am that night to the sound of frantic knocking on the door, everything went wrong. And he was so stupid; he never even understood what it meant. What it meant when he saw the red and blue lights, saw the hi-viz yellow jackets, saw the policewoman's eyes stare at him emotionless. Of course nothing would be alright.
Everything was wrong.
That was the past. It didn't matter anymore. She was just a girl who he'd known for a while; that was it. No strings attached.
But he'd been drinking. He'd been drinking a whole lot. And he didn't mean to, but there was something about the feeling it gave him every time he chugged down a shot that made him feel so... alive. And he hadn't felt like that since...
No, he told himself, that wasn't it. He didn't care about that bitch he used to call his sister. She'd ruined his life five years ago, it had hurt. He didn't care about Sarah. Well, that's what he told himself.
He had just finished his sixth vodka shot when his best friend dragged him home, blind drunk as usual. Truth is, Conor O' Driscoll hated what had become of his twenty year old friend. He hadn't been like this when his sister was around, but never in a million years would he tell Zack that. He'd changed. He never used to have panic attacks when Sarah was here. He never used to get drunk or do drugs when Sarah was here. He wasn't bi-polar back then either. And who knows, maybe it wasn't to do with her at all, maybe it was inevitable- never put anything past Zack Martin.
Honestly, Sarah's 'passing' had had a good effect on Conor's family. He certainly argued with his sister less. And he realised his dad was laying off the drink a little. Every cloud has a silver lining, I guess.
In fact, it affected a lot. More 'don't drink and drive' campaigns, more charities, more awareness. It was a small town they lived in, and now that someone had been killed on the road (and the news had DEFINITELY spread like wildfire), everyone took it seriously. It wasn't just a big city thing, danger was everywhere.
So that, I guess is Sarah's story. No drama, no nothing. Because it's the little things that make the difference. You know that poem, The Road Less Travelled By, it's like that. Every day is filled up with the little things, the little reactions that you don't think about, but they make all the difference when they all link up.
Like with Sarah, what would have happened if that driver hadn't crashed into them, if the paramedics had gotten there quicker, if the road they normally took hadn't been closed.
Zack's life wouldn't have been ruined.
But maybe
That
Was
For
The
Best.
Okay, here's a one-shot. First one shot, first no one's point of view as well. I hope you like it, I guess I wrote this because everyone can relate to it I guess, how one death affects a whole load of people, not just one. But still, some are worse than others, and everyone has a different way of reacting. It's kind of based on 'The Truth About Leo' but that wasn't on here, so I picked Thirteen Reasons Why instead, because of the whole action then consequence thing.
Comment I guess.