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Playing With Fire

Ten minutes just ten minutes before the accident that turned my sturdy whole life in to gray falling ashes, we had all been laughing and talking, enjoying a well cooked meal from a fancy up-town restuarant; Mason's family and mine. It's was my idea to go 'celebrate' that night, I was to one who pushed and pursuaded the parents into agreeing. Me and me aone. The stupid part was we weren't even celebrating anything, I wanted to go, so we went. It was selfish if nothing else. If I had known what would happen, I would have begged and pleaded with my parents to let us stay home and have another boring saturday night.

But I couldn't have known.

There was no way.

Was there?

The whole idea was nothing but a mistake.

And in the end we all pay for our mistakes don't we?....


I remember the car lurching off the side of the road, the burning pain that ignited in my chest from the pressure of the seatbelt, the impact of the tree causing the windows and windshield to shatter. Thinking back I can just barely remember the fear I felt when I saw my parents pale hands that had been clasped together now laying limp in the dim moonlight, the faint smell of gasoline and the dizzying black spots appearing in my vision before I was completely swallowed. What I don’t remember is Mason’s car pulling up and his parents and him rushing over, his mom crying hysterically, his dad frantically calling 911. I also don’t remember Mason pulling me from the burning car, or sobbing over my unconscious body as the whole car erupted in blazing flames. But just because I don’t remember them, doesn’t mean these things didn’t happen.





Something I really wish I didn’t remember is waking up in the hospital a few days later, with dramatic blood loss, quite a few broken ribs, and severe bruising and cuts all over my body. I wish I didn’t remember the look on Callum’s face, or the shallow sinking feeling I had when his parents told me that I was the only survivor of the crash or the sobs that later racked my body when I was alone. A week later my name and face was plastered all over the newspapers, all of them talking about my ‘brush with death’. It seemed like a dream, getting dressed up to go to my parents’ funeral, with Mason by my side. But even when things seem like a dream, they can be reality...




My name is Violet Lila Sinclair, and one thing I’ve learned is that playing with fire is bound to get you burned.




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