Isabella R

Bonus Votes

Bonus votes is the number of points earned from submitting social shares.


I have always been in a rush. I sat on my living room couch and thought about always being the first one to finish a test and the first of my friends to graduate college. I glanced at the framed photo on the coffee table of me in my white graduation gown and my red, pink, and grey tassels. I smiled and remembered how at dinner that night my dad told me to slow down and enjoy life more because soon I will be too busy to appreciate the little things. I laughed because rushing is what helped me save him money on paying for another year and a half of college. The jangling of keys and the click of the front door handle shook me out of my reverie, and I stood up to see my parents shuffling inside. They didn’t say a word. It’s been three years since I’ve been gone, and they are still so quiet. I don’t blame them though, I blame myself. My mom sat at the kitchen island and my dad rummaged in the fridge as I started to make my way towards them. Halfway across the room I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror. Clothes savagely ripped and soaked dried blood, a giant deep gnash on my forehead, and missing pieces of my scalp where my long brown hair used to be. I still hear the screams and sobs of my mom the first time she saw me like this. I remember falling to my knees in front of her, trying to comfort her, and begging her to forgive me for picking up that phone in the car. I whispered how sorry I was for thinking I was invincible, that it wouldn’t happen to me. I should’ve known the second I touched my phone, I was already a dead woman. I should’ve just put it on silent when I drove, I should’ve gone the speed limit, I should’ve turned down my music, I should’ve told my friends to quiet down and stop yelling at each other. But… I didn’t. I kept my ringer on, I kept going 20 over the speed limit, I kept the music blaring, and I let my friends sing their favorite songs. I paid the ultimate price for it, and now I wish I would’ve never touched that phone, so I could have told my parents one last time how much I love them. Instead, I am cursed to watch them suffer and drown in grief every day while I’m left to my thoughts of what life would have been if I had realized what sending one text would cost me. I have always been in a rush, but now I have eternity.