Young Writers Society

To crawl.

To walk.

To run.

To jump.

I would miss those things. So would she. I didn't mean to. But I can't say it wasn't my fault. I can't expect forgiveness from anyone. Not for this.

The head lights were on full beam making possums stop dead on the road. Four, I thought to myself.

Saylise was in the back seat, holding Korey, our new born son. It would have been his first time home, had I not been such a reckless fool.

"Honey, is everything okay back there?" I asked.

"Um, I don't think so..." she said, unsure.

"What?" I turned to look at her and Korey. The baby was as still as a brick, flushed, and his hands were swollen. I turned my whole body to see Saylise's unsure frown.

Mistake one.

"Baby, it'll be okay, I pro-" I was cut off by the sudden impact.

I swiveled around to see a burgundy Honda Prius crashing into my bonnet. The impact snapped my spinal chord and broke a few ribs. Saylise broke both her legs beyond fixing. The only person to die was Korey. My baby. My beloved shining jewel. Gone.

I can only hope for the pleasure of forgiveness. Dare to believe that she, Saylise, will talk to me again. Maybe someday. But for now, we must crawl our way back to life and love.