My mom always told me not to text and drive. I should have listened. Now it was too late.
As they wheeled me into the ambulance, I glanced at the mangled red Ford that my VW Polo rammed into. It lay on its roof after flipping over—an absolute wreck. I prayed that everyone was all right, myself included. The lights and sirens dazed me into darkness.
I woke to silence. A sweet smell permeated the room, owing to the flowers on the stand next to me. It was nauseating. The beautiful bouquet accompanied other trinkets of well wishes. They didn’t brighten up my mood. Nothing seemed sunny anymore. My head felt heavy, and I could feel the grey clouds hanging above, waiting to release a downpour over me. I couldn’t tell which part ached more than the rest. The pain travelled through every inch of
