May 1, 2009
By Patrick Blake BRONZE, Brooklyn, New York
Patrick Blake BRONZE, Brooklyn, New York
2 articles 0 photos 0 comments

I ran outside my backdoor and threw myself onto our deck. The wet wood was pressing against my cheeks and the cold wind was freezing my bare feet.I wanted to be somewhere else. Ever since the accident, my life has been all screwed up. Everyday has been a new struggle. I turn my body up to the sky and stare amazed at the cloud formations. I wish my mother was back. Why did he have to kill her? My mom shouldn't have been out anyways. She had deserved to live, not that drunk driver.
As i gaze up at the sky the nature around seems to close in. I hear the birds chriping a high-pitched seronade, but i dont care. Life is horrible. There was only one great thing in this life, and that is the sky. I remeber when me and my mother used to sit outside and gaze up at the clouds. We would point out formations of clouds. My mother always used to say there was a cloud that looked like a mother and a son. I used to think it was just a joke, but it was much more than that. I pushed myself off the cold wood and was standing against the railing. Maybe my mother always knew she would die like this. I looked up at the sky and saw a cloud. I could have sworn it looked just like her....

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