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This was the worst rainstorm Wistville had ever seen. The sky, grayer than frigid steel. The streets, drowning in small waves of polluted water. And I could taste just how polluted it was as cars whizzed frantically by, their tires spraying back water through my shattered window. I felt the blood, heavy, rushing to my aching head as it throbbed fast at pace with my beating heart. It's expected to feel this panic when you're in a car upside down on the side of a disoriented highway. In the driver's seat was my best friend, Josh. If one of us went through something, both of us went through something. That's how close we were. Though today had to have been the worst day for us to "go through something". Not that there's ever a good day for a car accident. We were headed for the movies where I would finally, and hopefully spit out, what I had been hiding from him for years. I loved him. As more than a friend.

      "So.." Josh began, "instead of going to see a movie, we've been thrown unwillingly right into one. And a very cliche one at that, huh?" He laughed nervously, slipping a finger inside the collar of his new Three Days Grace T-Shirt, pulling the cloth back and forth in an attempt to calm himself down. I loved him more than ever as I look down, watching him soon after starting to struggle and pull frantically on my seat-belt that had trapped me. A shard of glass from the impact had managed to lodge itself in between the mechanism somehow. I smiled at him warmly, hoping to comfort him with the lie my shaking lips had just curved into. Then just as I was about to open my eager mouth for words, my jaw dropped open wide for a completely different reason. Down the highway, a pair of obnoxiously bright lights ripped through the dark, muggy air. A horn's blaring scream echoed loud enough to shatter our windows, if the crash hadn't already done that. It was a tractor trailer heading straight in our direction. Crossing feet in seconds. I tried to speak. Tried to scream. For dear life. For mine. For his. But my throat was tight and dry and all I could manage was a squeak. I grabbed a hold of his arm and shook it violently, pushing him against his door, implying that he make his escape in the few seconds he might still have. His warm, sweaty, shaking hand overlapped mine and squeezed it tight. "I'm not going anywhere." He said strongly, his bark brown eyes full of understanding and staring into mine. Still, he pulled on my belt. We wouldn't make it. We knew. "Josh, I-!" I screamed. "I know.." He smiled. And then there was darkness.
Short story I wrote in Writers Club back in High School. Took about 20 minutes. 
Originally written Jun 20, 2010
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August 21, 2015
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