My Fault

My Fault

A Short Story

I smiled as the man took my picture. I was very sad though I did not want to show that in the picture. It was obvious. Everyone was sad too. When she died I felt as if I died too. She was my bestfriend and I saw her everyday. We met on the corner of Browning and Smithson st. every week day to go to school together. One morning I walk to the corner and waited until I could not wait any longer or I would be late for school. I nibbled at my bagel as I walked. I was walking in a fast walk rather than a run because I was hoping she would run behind me saying “Hey! Sorry I was late I remembered I had to get something out of my room when I was walking out the door.” She didn't. I remembered a tradition we had of trading our breakfast when we met and would eat on the way to school. I had her favorite type of bagel today. I was hoping she would walk up to me and say “Oh! My favorite!” I was starting to worry as I walked up the stairs to get to school. Then I went to my locker. And then went to my homeroom. She was no where to be found. We had a lot of the same classes in the afternoon, but just Mr. Froundergarden's second period math class. I was puzzled. Where was she? As lunch came around I sat at our favorite spot to sit. She did not show up. I thought maybe she was sick, but if so she would have called me. Besides she was never sick. Understanding that made things worse and I started to scare myself. I walk home by myself. I remembered I took the other way to get to Browning and Smithson. Instead of walking striate to the left until I reach Mountain Pass Lane then going to the right and ending up on Browning st. I turned right and went straight until I got to Top Notch Lane then pass up Browning st. then turn right to get to Fill Drive. Then I would turn right again to get to King Pass Then I turn right again and get to Browning st. I took the long way because I had not gone that way before. I walked inside my house and said hi to my mom. She did not say anything back to me, but looked deeply in my eyes. “Samantha, Grace's mom called me...” She trailed off then seated me down on the couch to explain what happened. Grace had gone to the corner and waited for me. Then I was taking too long and she turned back to check on me because she thought I would still be at home or we would cross paths on the way. Then a car came and skid off the road hitting her and tossing her into a huge rose bush on the corner of Browning and Smithson st. where I was standing waiting for her when she was there the whole time because the drive never stopped to check on her. I started to gag and ran into the bathroom and puked. I cried and told my mom what happened. So here I am now at her funeral and some man is taking pictures. Why? I don't know, but I can never forgive myself because I was the reason she was killed. If I went the normal way and met with her then gone to school and missed that car that hit her she might still be alive. Isn't it funny how one day someone is there and the next day they are not because you change one thing out of your day and then you regret it.......Forever.......And if Mrs. Burch, who lives on the corner, had not gone outside to water her bush, Grace might have not been found for longer than she was missing. And how do we know what she was doing or thinking when it all happened? She was still alive in that bush, but was silently screaming to me, but was too hurt to make noise. Then when she had some medical help she was able to tell her story to her mother, but it drained the last of her energy and she died. It's my fault.....All Mine........Her last words were “Hug Samantha for me, mom. I love you. Good Bye......” Tears built up in my eyes and I grabbed the camera from the man's hands and threw it as far a I could then got on my knees in the cold mud and screamed. It started to rain again and I cried and cried.......and cried......