I Believe
By: Black Rose
It was a late Saturday evening. A father and daughter were driving home together from shopping at one of her favorite stores. Her father loved her so much and was willing to do anything for her. They had a perfect relationship. He glanced over to her and smiled lovingly. He stroked her hair and whispered, "I love you, Amy." She smiled back, but it was immediately replaced by a look of horror. Bright headlights shone in their faces as a car skidded out of control toward them. Amy screamed as the car rushed closer and closer. Her dad covered her with himself, bracing for the crash.
The next thing Amy knew, she was waking up in a hospital room. Her arm was in a blood-covered sling. Reality hits her, playing that horrible memory in her head. Dad, she thought, Where's my dad? At that moment, her mother came in. "Oh, Amy!" she exclaimed, rushing toward her bed, "I'm so glad you're okay!" She hugged her, which was difficult, with all the wires and cords surrounding her. "Where's Dad?" Amy asked, "Is he okay? Where is he?" Her mother's face slowly dimmed. "I'm sorry, Amy," she said, "He. He didn't make it." Her daughter's normally happy, cheerful face suddenly twisted in a mix of agony, fury, and despair. "No!" she cried, "He can't be dead! He ahs to be alive somewhere! How could you let this happen?!" "Sweetie," her mother tried to calm her down, "I know you're upset, but it wasn't' my fault. It wasn't anyone's fault." But she wouldn't listen.
Since then, she's worn nothing but black, and her dark brown hair hung down in straight, dead locks. Her face was always bare, and not once has a smile crossed her face. Her attitude changed too. She became a loner. She never hung out with friends, and always sat alone at lunch. She never even spoke to anyone! But recently, she started high school, and met Sandra, a fellow goth. Sandra had a problem much like Amy's, only she handled it a different way- by drinking, and doing drugs. Soon, her bad habits rubbed off on Amy. She too started smoking, drinking, and doing drugs. She constantly skipped school, and when she wasn't, her attitude was cocky, rude, and disrespectful. Her locker was filled with violent pictures, and she was in a fight almost every other day. She always reeked of smoke and beer, and snuck out of the house to go to parties and came back drunk and high. She stole money from other kids to buy her cigarettes and drinks. She also started dealing drugs at school. Since the accident, her mother worked full-time and was never home. The closest she had to a parent was Ellen, the housekeeper, who pretty much raised Amy the best she could, though now, as she sees what she's doing to herself, she wonders if she had really done her best.
It was a late Saturday evening. A father and daughter were driving home together from shopping at one of her favorite stores. Her father loved her so much and was willing to do anything for her. They had a perfect relationship. He glanced over to her and smiled lovingly. He stroked her hair and whispered, "I love you, Amy." She smiled back, but it was immediately replaced by a look of horror. Bright headlights shone in their faces as a car skidded out of control toward them. Amy screamed as the car rushed closer and closer. Her dad covered her with himself, bracing for the crash.
The next thing Amy knew, she was waking up in a hospital room. Her arm was in a blood-covered sling. Reality hits her, playing that horrible memory in her head. Dad, she thought, Where's my dad? At that moment, her mother came in. "Oh, Amy!" she exclaimed, rushing toward her bed, "I'm so glad you're okay!" She hugged her, which was difficult, with all the wires and cords surrounding her. "Where's Dad?" Amy asked, "Is he okay? Where is he?" Her mother's face slowly dimmed. "I'm sorry, Amy," she said, "He. He didn't make it." Her daughter's normally happy, cheerful face suddenly twisted in a mix of agony, fury, and despair. "No!" she cried, "He can't be dead! He ahs to be alive somewhere! How could you let this happen?!" "Sweetie," her mother tried to calm her down, "I know you're upset, but it wasn't' my fault. It wasn't anyone's fault." But she wouldn't listen.
Since then, she's worn nothing but black, and her dark brown hair hung down in straight, dead locks. Her face was always bare, and not once has a smile crossed her face. Her attitude changed too. She became a loner. She never hung out with friends, and always sat alone at lunch. She never even spoke to anyone! But recently, she started high school, and met Sandra, a fellow goth. Sandra had a problem much like Amy's, only she handled it a different way- by drinking, and doing drugs. Soon, her bad habits rubbed off on Amy. She too started smoking, drinking, and doing drugs. She constantly skipped school, and when she wasn't, her attitude was cocky, rude, and disrespectful. Her locker was filled with violent pictures, and she was in a fight almost every other day. She always reeked of smoke and beer, and snuck out of the house to go to parties and came back drunk and high. She stole money from other kids to buy her cigarettes and drinks. She also started dealing drugs at school. Since the accident, her mother worked full-time and was never home. The closest she had to a parent was Ellen, the housekeeper, who pretty much raised Amy the best she could, though now, as she sees what she's doing to herself, she wonders if she had really done her best.