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A Crappy Weekend

A few hours ago i was the happiest kid in the world; nice house, good grades, loving family, pretty much anything i asked for. That all came crashing down in less than second.

We were playing baseball in the street, like we always do on Saturday. The four cul-de-sacs in my neighborhood all had their own teams. This weeks game was us against the team across the street. my little brother was always umpire; he was too young to play, and he would pester me if we didn't just let him. normally all the parents came out and watched, so we wouldn't break for cars. We were serious about our baseball. there weren't that many out today, but they naturally avoided this street anyway.

i was playing second base. my best friend was up to bat. i was talking to the pitcher when i heard it. the awful screech of tires losing traction. I looked up, and saw, ripping around the corner, an old 1966 baby blue mustang. "RUN!!" i yell at the top of my lungs. i had just reached the sidewalk when i heard an ear-splitting squeal. "SAMMY!!" I screamed, turning just in time to see my brothers small, frail body thrown into the air. Sprinting to catch him before he landed, a cold chill raced down my spine. i already knew he was dead. i gently lay his broken body on the unforgiving asphalt. Grabbing a bat i turn, ready to pummel the jacka** who ran over my little brother, or at least do some major damage to his car. but he was gone. nobody moved. what had started as an innocent Saturday afternoon ended like a horrible nightmare.





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