I do enjoy summers. They excite me a lot. Although they do, they always remind me of what happened. The year was 2020, about sixteen years ago. As I remember, I know what happened to my friends. Why was it them? They where so young. So nice. I enjoyed being with them so much. I loved them with my whole heart. Why did they have to go? What is wrong with me?
"Sasha! Get out of bed!" My mother yelled, it was three months before it happened.
"Coming mother!" I said cheerfully. I was always willing to listen. Little did I know I was naive.
I ran downstairs, hitting my foot on the wall. As I cowered in pain, my mother listed all the things I had to do. Clean the floors, wash the dishes, bake muffins for the bakery, walk down to the grocery store and grab some eggs, go to the barber and get my hair cut, blah blah blah. For the world being so high-tech, we where very low and uneducated, as you might say. Where I did not know what was going to happen, I was excited for the day. I got up and did my chores, then ran out and did all my mother's errans.
As I walked home, humming my favorite song, I heard something weird around a bend. It sounded terrible, like a banshee described in stories my late nana used to describe. I turn the bend, although it's a little ways from home.
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