It's July 27, 2011. My uncle had just left our house, we, (my mother, father, and siblings), were soon to follow. We were all headed to my grandmothers house. We all piled up into my dad's new Ford. We had just passed BJ's as I felt a tightening in my stomach, almost as if something dreadful were about to happen. Sure enough we rounded the corner and there were five or six pedestrian cars and two police vehicles. We slowed down and pulled to the corner of the road. I could not yet see the wreck, and I assume my father couldn't either because he repositioned the truck closer. Perhaps my uncle was involved in a wreck. Dad slams his fist on the steering wheel, "Dammit Justin!" he yells. My mom looks shocked. I don't see why he is acting this way, it seems to be only a small wreck. I see a small yellow car parked close to a tree. Well, that doesn't make much sense. I don't see Justin's car though. Maybe that's why Dad is angry, Justin must've left the scene of the accident. Then I realize that Justin's car is the one parked by the tree, though it wasn't parked but wrecked. I didn't recognize it because of the shape the once nice vehicle was in. She rubs my fathers arm and says, "Maybe he's okay.". It doesn't look okay to me at all and I imagine that the expression on my face as I look at my mother mirrors my thoughts. It's so wrong of her to give us all false hope, as if anyone would be alive after that. I look out the window, I see his yellow sports car crammed against the tree. The once beautiful body of the vehicle is now no longer than the length of my leg. I fight to keep my heartbeat down. I feel the unfamiliar sensation of tears forming in my eyes as I look at the disaster before me. I mindlessly wonder how they will retrieve his body from the wreckage. I zone back into the atmosphere of the truck. It appears my father has exited the truck, leaving the driver door agape. My mother too is outside the vehicle, she seems to be comforting my
It's July 27, 2011. My uncle had just left our house, we, (my mother, father, and siblings), were soon to follow. We were all headed to my grandmothers house. We all piled up into my dad's new Ford. We had just passed BJ's as I felt a tightening in my stomach, almost as if something dreadful were about to happen. Sure enough we rounded the corner and there were five or six pedestrian cars and two police vehicles. We slowed down and pulled to the corner of the road. I could not yet see the wreck, and I assume my father couldn't either because he repositioned the truck closer. Perhaps my uncle was involved in a wreck. Dad slams his fist on the steering wheel, "Dammit Justin!" he yells. My mom looks shocked. I don't see why he is acting this way, it seems to be only a small wreck. I see a small yellow car parked close to a tree. Well, that doesn't make much sense. I don't see Justin's car though. Maybe that's why Dad is angry, Justin must've left the scene of the accident. Then I realize that Justin's car is the one parked by the tree, though it wasn't parked but wrecked. I didn't recognize it because of the shape the once nice vehicle was in. She rubs my fathers arm and says, "Maybe he's okay.". It doesn't look okay to me at all and I imagine that the expression on my face as I look at my mother mirrors my thoughts. It's so wrong of her to give us all false hope, as if anyone would be alive after that. I look out the window, I see his yellow sports car crammed against the tree. The once beautiful body of the vehicle is now no longer than the length of my leg. I fight to keep my heartbeat down. I feel the unfamiliar sensation of tears forming in my eyes as I look at the disaster before me. I mindlessly wonder how they will retrieve his body from the wreckage. I zone back into the atmosphere of the truck. It appears my father has exited the truck, leaving the driver door agape. My mother too is outside the vehicle, she seems to be comforting my