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Two Seconds to Late

R u @ home? Those four words were the last words I ever heard from her. Those six letters and symbols were the last I would ever hear from my best friend, my sister. No chance to say I’m sorry for everything I ever did, from getting on your nerves to messing with your makeup. No chance to take back all the nasty names we called each other. No chance to say I love you one last time.

Almost twenty minutes after that text was sent, the phone began to ring. Just hearing the sound sent cold shivers down my spine. I didn't know what had happened, but I knew something was wrong; I always knew. I got up to silence the shrill, monotone of the enemy that once was a friend. My mother reached it before I did. I watched as different emotions flashed across her face. First surprise, then shock, and then finally anguish; a guttural cry was emitted from her and the phone slowly fell from her hands, like a fly towards its death.

The crash jarred me from my gloomy thoughts, and brought me back to the present. “Mom, who was that? What’s wrong,” I asked, reaching towards her. She quickly pulled me into her arms, and gently rocked back and forth, cradling me like she used to when I was younger. Her tears slowly began to dampen my hair, and she began to moan, “My baby, my poor baby.” “Mom,” I tried again, “What’s wrong?”

Shaking her head softly, she lifted her shaking hand and slowly extended her pointer finger. I followed it, and saw that a special news report was on TV. Untangling myself from her, I made my way towards it, terrified of what I would find. On the screen, a helicopter camera was shooting footage from a car wreck. The scene was terrible. One of the cars was in the middle of the two-lane highway; its trunk was curled over into the back window, the left side doors were all smashed in with no way to escape the car from that side, and the hood of the car had been pushed up so it resembled a piece of paper when it is folded over to make a fan. The rescue workers were using the Jaws of Life to cut off the side doors to get the people still alive out.

The second car was in much, much worse condition. It appeared to have flipped over a few times, all the windows on the right side were blown out. After it had flipped, it must have slid into the giant oak tree where it proceeded to wrap around the trunk. Whoever had been driving that car could not have survived.

As I looked on, words began to scroll across the bottom of the screen. “It has been verified that the passengers in the blue Fusion are unconscious and heading towards the hospital, but will be okay. The driver of the red Focus has been verified as Emily Jones, and was found dead on sight. If the family…” My eyes began to water as I repeated that name over and over again. Emily Jones. Emily. My Emily. My big sister, who always looked after me, was dead. My vision became even more blurry, as they began showing grainy videos that some witnesses had taken from their phones. I saw the image of my sister’s car being totaled, over and over again.

My back slumped against the wall behind me, and slowly slid down it and sat on the floor. A realization hit me, and the tears began to flow harder. She was reading my answer to her; it took her two seconds to read that answer. Two seconds to travel almost half a football field. Two seconds to not see the car swerving into her lane. Two seconds, just two seconds to late. Now my only sister; my big sister; my sissy, was gone forever. And I could never say I love you ever again.

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