Dead?

She was instantly swept off of her feet by the connection of the black Lincoln Continental to her hip. Her torso was thrown against the hood of the car and the side of her face smacked the windshield. Cheek bones shattered and a forehead split down the middle. Red streamed down the once clear glass as the breaks squeaked to a halt.

“Shit! What the hell?” Robert groggily stared at the carcass strewn across the hood of his car. It took nearly all of his strength to focus his eyes on the face, and when he finally did he let out a quiet moan; it was Samantha. Her eyes were peeled open in a permanent state of shock and terror. Blood and brains were splattered across the windshield. Her long, tanned arms laid limp at her sides; she had no time to lift them in an attempt at defense from the steal monster that was galloping down the highway, its beaming eyes set directly on her.

In complete disbelief, Robert sat motionlessly in the driver seat. As his fingers grazed the cold glass, he instantaneously became sober and realized what had just happened. He fumbled with the door handle and stumbled out of the car. Tears began to stream down his face as he carefully lifted the lifeless body of his daughter off of the hood. He gently laid her on the grass and kneeled next to her. He put his ear to her chest, listening for a heartbeat. She was still warm. The scent of her perfume was still emanating from her neck. The silence of her chest echoed in his head. He sobbed as he pressed his forehead against her boney sternum. A million thoughts began to race through his head at once. The car ride home from the hospital. That sweet baby smell that always made his mind and body overflow with love and pride. Her first birthday. Waking up in a state of panic as she catapulted herself onto his stomach on Saturday mornings. Cleaning her scrapped knees. Not getting a good night sleep the entire summer she was away at camp. The knot he always got in his stomach during her orchestra performances. Dancing with her at her sweet 16. The sound of her voice singing “Brown Eyed Girl.” The panic that always ensued whenever she was out past her curfew.

He had his first drink at 8:00 PM. And 9 more after that. Sam left the house at 7:00 PM for her friend’s party in the next town. She was supposed to be home at 1:00 AM, and when she wasn’t, Robert grew worried. After his many failed attempts at reaching her via her cell phone, he decided to go out and look for her. If his wife were there this would have never happened. He wouldn’t have even been drinking in the first place. That was a new habit. So was cocaine. But he only really did that when he had been drinking too much and needed to sober up quickly.

Why wasn’t she home on time? Why didn’t she answer her cell phone? He gazed at her left hand; Michelle had given Samantha her engagement ring before she died. He slipped the ring off of her thin finger and squeezed it in his fist. What had happened to their family? Why did Michelle have to get sick? He needed her.

A cool breeze swept over him and he lifted his head. Standing over him and Samantha, was the figure of his wife. He tried to get up but fell backwards onto the wet grass. As he gazed up at the lucid figure of his wife, she began to inch forward.

“Michelle…?”

“Yes?”

“This isn’t real. It can’t be. I must be hallucinating.”

“No Rob, it’s really me.”

“But you’re dead. You’re dead. And now Samantha’s dead. How did this happen? I was out looking for her. I shouldn’t have been driving. I can’t believe I’ve done this… I killed her!” Robert put his face in his hands and sobbed.

“This needed to happen, Robert. You don’t deserve to have Samantha. You don’t deserve anything. You are ruining her life, as well as your own. How many bottles of Bourbon have you had this week? You can’t take care of our daughter anymore; so now, I’m going to take care of her.”

“No…Please don’t take her away from me. She’s all I have…”

Robert looked up from his tear soaked palms and saw the ceiling fan of his living room. A car door slammed outside and the front door opened quietly. Samantha slipped in and gracefully leapt up the stairs. Robert exploded off of the couch and bounded up the stairs to her room. Standing in the doorway, he watched her kick off her shoes and turn on her laptop.

“Is everything okay, Dad?” Samantha looked puzzled.

“You’re late.” Tears began to well in his eyes.

“I know, I’m really sorry, Dad. I stayed to help Amy clean up after the party. And…don’t kill me, but I think I lost my cell phone.” She gazed at him from across the room. “Dad, are you alright? What did you do tonight? Your pants are so dirty…Is that blood on your arm?” She rushed over to him to examine him.

“I’m fine, I fell before when I was cleaning the deck. I’m fine. Go to sleep, sweetheart. I love you.”

“I love you, too. Goodnight. Oh wait, do you want to go out to breakfast tomorrow?”

“Sure. Goodnight.”

As he walked down the hall to his bedroom, he felt the ring in his pocket.