Bryn M

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Please, help me. I don’t know what to do. Mom, you’re crying and I can’t help you. Dad, you’re upset, and I know that it’s my fault. And little sister, your eyes, they brim with guilt. Because if not for your dance, I would still be here. It was a pleasant afternoon, that Saturday in May. The birds were out, the snow was gone, and the squirrels came to play. The road was clear and straight, And the trees all around Gave the impression that all was nice and sound. I remember the phone buzzing, I remember looking down. Then after that I remember a loud screeching sound. Now I don’t know what to do, things will never be the same. For Mom or Dad, for my little sister or me. That text really had no point, When weighed against my life. I wonder how things would have been If I had been patient to reply. Would I ever realize how dangerous it is? It doesn’t matter to me now, I’m simply dead and gone. For one little text that destroyed The most precious thing of all.