Three

November 18, 2005

Three

Two days before the car sex, the crying and the yelling, Phillip gave Peter and his sister a ride back to their house. Peter’s sister’s name was Angie. Angie was looking at him funny the whole ride to their house, then for a second before she got down she gave him a sinister smile.
Angie was Amanda’s best friend. Angie’s bedroom overlooked the garden in their house…

Raymond Williams opened the garage door as he headed for his date. He hadn’t had a date in a while, and wanted to look his absolute best. His hair, however, was determined to not let him get away with it and refused to settle down. He fought with it through the rear-view mirror as he headed into the street.
Somewhere ahead of him a man was yelling at someone else to stop. He looked up, but didn’t see anything.
“Some stupid house-fight� he thought, and went on fixing his hair.

Amanda Delvet was still running on the side-walk away from Phillip. She ran down the curb sobbing, broken-hearted, cheated, betrayed, unaware. She crossed the street turning to see if Phillip was still behind her.
Raymond Williams turned his eyes from the mirror to the wrecked face of a pretty twenty-two year old, smashed against his windshield.
The screeching tires was the last thing she heard. Phillip McCain kissing a red-head at a party was the last image her brain displayed just before it permanently shut down.
The rain began to fall on Phillip as he held his love, life-less, in his arms. He never really felt guilty about the red-head until now.
Raymond Williams missed his date.

The neighbors of the street chipped in to build a speed-bump where Amanda had been hit.
So it goes.

Five years later, a kid was skating on that same street the way kids go around skating not caring about holes or creases in the ground. The kid went crying to his mom about scraping his knee when he’d tried to jump the useless speed-bump infront of his house. Although it seemed like nothing at the time, the injury would cause the kid pain for the rest of his life, whenever it got too cold or he ran too much.

Fifteen years after THAT nothing else exists and the pain in my knee is the least of my problems as I concentrate on Kathryn, trying to not die and wondering how long it’ll take Mtv to get here… it’s funny the places your mind goes when you’re about to die.

All this will become relevant.

Permalink