In the beginning, there were three,
Sophia, Louisa, and then me.
Sophia,
The cool one, my best friend.
She drove Louisa round then bend.
Louisa,
Rich, pretty, spoiled,
With a posh accent and manners well oiled.
Then one day, my view changed.
Sophia made me too deranged.
So I chose Louisa instead.
“What’re you doing?” Sophia said.
But I wouldn’t change my mind,
Louisa had one my trust this time.
And then came that fateful day,
On the way to Kimmeridge Bay.
The driver, tired, fell asleep,
The hill was high, and very steep,
We careered straight off the road,
The truck coming had a heavy load.
We couldn’t escape the inevitable crash,
So we waited for the smash.
Glass smashed, metal tore,
But Sophia was sat near the door.
She opened it with one hard shove,
Thanked her guardian above,
Then limped away from the wreck,
Pain burning in her neck.
But she was the only one,
Towards the bus she started to run.
She saw me at Louisa’s side,
“Help me, please!” Louisa cried.
But our time was running out,
Me or Louisa? She had doubts.
Pulling me out, she runs for our lives,
Just then, the fuel ignites,
The bus explodes, shoots fire high,
Choking smoke and blinding light.
She saved me, and I’m glad,
But we lost Louisa, so we’re sad.
