It was a bright day, full of excitement and blossoming love. Just moments ago, Cecilia was driving down the street with an anxious feeling. But this was not a worrisome, anxious feeling. No, this was new, fun, exciting, butterflies in her stomach type of anxious. One with the anticipation of new love that is often felt in youth.
But instantly, this was no longer the case. So abruptly, Cecilia was no longer driving, it was no longer day, and she wasn’t even in her car. The last thing she can remember was driving down the street with all these new feelings. But now she was walking down the same street, now lonesome and dimly-lit. What was once an exciting new day, was suddenly a dark and unnerving night. Cecilia was baffled, she did not know how or why she ended up here.
A startled Cecilia continues walking down the obscure street, a bright light called Cecilia’s attention. She began walking towards it, and as she got closer to it she realized it was a roadside memorial for a small boy. Surrounding the picture of the child were candles, flowers, teddy bears, and a soccer ball. A voice called from behind her, “Hey, you’re that lady, the one that was in the red car.” She turns around to see a small boy no more than 7 years of age. Due to the obscurity of the street, she couldn’t see his face very clearly, but as he walked into the light of the candles she realized that it was the boy in the memorial photos.
She got an eerie feeling in her gut and asked the boy, “Wait, is that you?” as she pointed to the photo. “Yeah, that’s me. I’m Angel. What’s your name?.” “I’m Cecilia. How did you-” she wanted to choose her words wisely, “…end up like that?” “A distwacted driver hit me.” Slowly, Cecilia began to regain her memory. She began to panic as she came to consider the fact that she might have caused his death. A feeling of anxiety had returned, slowly creeping into every muscle in her body. No longer was her anxiety one spawned of new love but rather one of fear and impending danger. “Was I the one who-? Did I-?” She couldn’t finish her sentences.“No,” Angel answered. She felt a sense of relief. “I was hit by a black car not wed. Why were you doing your makeup when I saw you dwiving?”. “I was running late to meet up with Elijah. We were gunna meet up at the mall. ” Angel responded, “You know that’s dangewous. You need to focus on the woad and be a good dwiver”. “But I am a responsible driver,” Cecilia tried to convince herself. “I never drive under the influence”. “Putting on makeup when you’re driving is vewy dangewous. Why didn’t you do it at home?” “I was running late.” “You could have done it when you got to the mall. Or no make up at all. You’re very beautiful.”
Suddenly Cecilia snapped out of her daydream. It was now that same bright day again, and Cecilia was back in her car, makeup in one hand, wheel in the other. Out of muscle memory she began to bring the mascara brush to her eyelashes once again, but abruptly paused. She passed by Angel’s street memorial that she had passed by many times before. Cecilia came to a realization with her reckless behavior. She screwed the mascara closed, flipped the visor mirror, and put both hands on the wheel and proceeded on her way to the mall.