September 22, 2007
The car spun out of control, leaving four black marks on the road. The four people in the car were pulled out of their seats, and banged against the windows. The other car had been driving on the wrong side of the street. The car came to a final stop when it spun off the road and hit a tree. A young girl who was riding in the car opened the door. She was covered in cuts. She went over to her brother, trying to see if he was okay or alive. Andy was his name. CJ was hers. When she saw her brother, she knew it had been over. CJ went over to her mother and father. Hoping the best… yet seeing the worst. She walked away from the car, thinking that she should have died along with her family. Andy was only six years old. To young to die, to young to even know what that means. Looking at the road, CJ passed out. The last thing she saw, was red and blue flashes of lights. And hearing a siren that pierced her ears.

“How are you feeling?” CJ opened her eyes to find that she had been in the hospital. The most fearful place she has ever been. There was a nurse standing by her bed.

“They’re gone…aren’t they.” CJ’s voice cracked. She knew it was true, she just couldn’t think that she was alone in the world. Familyless, if it were a word.

“I am afraid so. Your grandparents are here to see you.” The nurse walked out of the room.

Two people walked in the room. A rather large man, wearing a hate that looked it belonged to the seventies, and a black jacket. Along with a thin women wearing a long, purple coat, and a golden necklace.

“Oh, Cameron!”

This is were I start to tell my own story. My nickname is CJ. My whole name is Cameron Joanna Dehlen. Yes, I just lost my family. My mother, Alison. My father, Jason. And my little brother, Andy. He was only six years old. He loved to tell me stories. I always thought he would be writer. Turns out I am telling the stories now. As for me, I am fourteen. I loved just hanging out with my friends. But since I lost my family, I began to hate my friends and wanted just to be alone.

“Hello Grandma.” I said. She gave me a hug, and started to cry. I did the same. She probably thought I wasn’t supposed to be alive. I thought the same thing. I wanted to be dead. My grandparent became my guardians. I went to the same school. I began to fail my classes, loose all of my friends, and hate myself.

It has been over a month since my families death. I didn’t know how we had gotten into a crash. That was until today.

The doorbell rang. It was a police officer. He told me to get my grandparents. I did. Sitting on a couch by myself, my grandparents together, and the officer standing. He started to talk.

“You family, Jason, Alison, and Andy are gone. We have just found out how.” He took a deep breath. I could tell he didn’t want to tell us. “Let me start it this way. Your father was driving. Correct.”

“Ya.” I said. I couldn’t think of my father at the moment. It hurt to much.

“There had been another driver. He was driving on the same road as your car.” The police officer went on. I interrupted him. “How do you know it was a ‘he’?”

“Just listen. He was going sixty miles per hour, you were going thirty. Your father curved out of the way and went straight into the woods, hitting a tree. The man got away.”

I stood up and went into my room. I didn’t need to hear that the person who killed my family got away with it. Throwing stuff onto the ground, and hitting my walls only caused me more pain.

The door opened. The officer came in. He sat on my bed and looked at the ground.

“We know it was a man. He was seen by another police officer. He was chased. The officer who was chasing him, jot down his license plat number, and saw your car get hit. He stopped chasing him and went to help you. We couldn’t find the who the lisence plat number belonged to. It seemed to have gotten lost. Here.” The officer handed me a piece of paper:IROK23

“I rock twenty three? Is this the license plat number?” I asked. He nodded his head.

“I am so sorry. You must miss your family a whole lot.”

“Yes. More then you could ever know.”

So now I know the truth. My family was killed by a man who was being chased by a police officer. And he had gotten away. But I knew there was more to it then that. The next day, I went to a concert with my grandparents. They thought I liked this rock band called, ‘ROCK YOUR WORLD’. I couldn’t say no. They only tried to get my life back. But we all knew I wouldn’t get my old life back. And it only happened in less then ten seconds.

When we were done parking, we got out. I started to walk, and look at the other cars. Then, a black truck almost ran my grandfather over.

“Watch it you idiot!” I yelled. With my family dead, I don’t want my grandfather dead also. The black truck was listing to rock music very loudly. The parked right next to me and my grandparents car. I sighed to myself. An idiot parking next to our car!

As the night went on, I listen to music that only gave me a headache. My grandparents made me laugh while they danced off beat. After all, I did have a good time. Until I got into the parking lot.

The concert was over, and we headed back to the car. The same idiot who almost killed my grandpa was sitting in his truck, with another friend of his. The were shouting and yelling the songs they were listening to. They looked at least eighteen years old. I stopped to tie my shoe.

“All right Rob,” said the one of the boys, “Which song do you like better?” The boy had been smoking and dropped his cigarette into the car. The other boy named Rob yelled at him. “Dude! I got this car three months ago!” He threw the cigarette out the window. I got up and started to walk to the car. My grandparents were already in the car. As I passed the truck, I saw the license plat number, ‘IROK23’. I stopped walking and looked at the kid Rob. His hair was black and messy. He had a bottle of what looked like bear in his front seat. I had to know his last name.

“Rob Smile?” I said. Smile was the only word that came to my mind. The two boys looked over at me. Rob was the one who talked. “No, I am Rob Slitler. I think you have the wrong person. Now buzz off little girl.”

So his last name was Slitler. Rob Slitler.

When I got home, I went into the phone book and looked up his name. It took me half and hour to find his name. I circled it, put a piece of paper in that page, closed it and went to sleep.

When I woke up, I got the phone, and called his house. 111-6789.

“Hello?” said a man’s voice.

“Hello is Rob there?” I asked.

“May I ask who is calling?”

“I am Sally from the department of Save the Family fund.” I thought of saying that because I knew he had killed my family.

“This is Rob. I am not interested.”

“I didn’t think you would be.”

There was a pause and I knew he was still on the phone.

“Why would you think that.”

“Because you killed my family.” I said and hung up.

Running away from the cops! Looking behind and seeing the red, white and blue lights flashing from the beer bottle in my hand. Hearing the siren and knowing I would be going to jail. But what he didn’t know was that I was on the wrong side of the road. A car was in front of me. It spun to get out of my way, and hit a tree. The sirens faded, and I knew he was off the hook. But guilt rose inside me.

“I am Sally from the department of Save the Family fund.”

“This is Rob. I am not interested.”

“I didn’t think you would be.”

I paused.

“Why would you think that.”

“Because you killed my family.”

I woke from my horrible nightmare. I had killed a family! Was that a ghost call? I killed a family!


I took a walk the next day. Down my street, up another, and across to the playground. I sat for five minutes, until a saw a black truck drive past the playground. I saw Rob sitting in the front seat. Following the car to his house, I realized he lived on my street. He got out and saw me. He was carrying a beer bottle in his right hand.

“What are you staring at?” He yelled at me.

“The murderer of my family.” I said. He dropped his bear. It was then that I knew he had been drunk the night he killed my family.

He looked at me with tears in his eyes. “I don’t know what your talking about.”

“You were drunk that night, weren’t you! Because of your fault, I have to suffer!” I yelled.

“I didn’t mean to-”

“Cock and bull! I see you are still drinking and driving! You just can’t stop, right after you killed my whole family!”

“I am sorry!”

“Sorry doesn’t bring back my family. Sorry doesn’t bring my six year old brother back from the dead! Nor does it my father nor mother. My life is ruined because of you! Thanks a lot!” I walked away. Knowing it is up to him to turn himself in.

I walked into the police department. An officer came up to me, asked what was my business was for being here.

I answered, “I drank and drive, and killed a family.” Tears spilled down my face. I knew my life was over. All because of a bottle of beer.

I knew my life was over and is would never be the same again. All because of a bottle of beer...

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