goaskjennifer (goaskjennifer) wrote in inmatesminds,

I step outside, backpack heavily on my back, bulging with books, some 20 lbs
worth, and shuffle along. At least its not raining today. I don't mind the
rain, but lately it's been so muggy, the rain was no respite. Even the cargo
shorts and thin pale T-Shirt will not save me today. I know by the time I am
1/2 way to work, I will have sweat through my T to my backpack and have
sweat running down my back, ugh.

The gravel on the side of the road crunches distantly underfoot.

There are bad things that happen to people, things like car accidents, plane
crashes, kitchen accidents, etc. Like this street, now that my path has
ended, but there is a new one on the other side, and I need to cross
anyways, I will J-Walk now, and get to that path, after this white beat up
pick-up with the painter's logo passes on my side and the blue Ford Taurus
and new yellow VW Bug pass on the other side, I will go. Thee drivers here
are kinda crazy, they swerve around someone walking down the side of the
street, but should you try to cross, even a cross-walk they try to run you
down. I am glad my family doesn't cross around here, if they did one could
get hit. I know I could see some stupid lady with here cell over her
shoulder, arguing with someone, other hand brushing her mussed dyed blonde
hair with her other. Going nearly the speed limit, and swerving slightly,
she could just slightly go over to the path to the side of the road while my
older daughter is walking along holding my hand, her little soft hand
wrapped loosely around my pinky. Suddenly I feel her hand jump off my finger
as I hear a deafening crack. Something splatters my glasses, but my eyes
instinctively shut, so I don't see what it was. In this same brief
millisecond instant, i hear both a soft, muffled crunch of something glass
being broken and a kinda metallic thud, like thick sheet metal being banged
with a rubber mallet. Right after this, I hear the sound of car tires trying
in vain to grip the road in a stinky roar of burning rubber. Then as I open
my eyes, all I see is red. I run to the broken body on the floor, a tangled
mess of limbs, pretty pink clothes, blood and matted curly blonde hair. One
eye is 1/2 open, staring up at the sky, the other, appears missing. Now I
can't see. I am suddenly hot, like my shirt were heated by the sun and I had
run in the desert. I can't breathe. I turn to the car, the driver is staring
at me and my daughter with an opened mouth expression of bewilderment and
indignant horror. Like I did it. She looks at me like 'why would I walk with
my daughter in the street like that'. That is the last look I see on her
face. I suddenly run at her and punch her in the throat with all my might. I
feel something break behind my larger, scarred left knuckles, and a soft
squishy gurgle come from her throat. I am still not looking at her face, I
can't. If I do, I will only see my daughter's face, all deformed and broken.
As she slumps down on the ground, I wrench off the side-view mirror and
slowly, but with all my might, start to beat in her face, until I can look
at it again. Until I can see the pavement through it. Then I fall down and
cry, for my daughter, for this lady I don't even know, for me.
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