chapter thirty three

"I was reading this story online the other night," Charlie said. "It was a diary of an unborn baby."

It was late in the afternoon, and Charlie and I were driving home through a rainstorm after a few hours of shopping, her favorite pastime. I didn't think she'd ever outgrow her love of that particular sport.

"I know what you're talking about," I replied. "I think I read that same story over five years ago. At my grandmother's house, in Mexico, they have a plaque with that story imprinted on it. It's been hung in the room my cousin and I share when we coincide with our visits. It's such a sweet story."

"More like bittersweet," Charlie corrected. "I don't think I've ever cried so much in my life."

"You're right. It was sweet in the beginning, with the baby describing it's surroundings, how it can hear the mother's heartbeat, when the doctor first tells her that she's expecting."

"And then," Charlie sighed. "The poor child asking her mother why she had ended the baby's life, when they could have been so happy together."

"I don't think I'll ever forget that story," I replied, turning a corner sharply.

"Dude, be careful!" Charlie exclaimed. "Don't you see it's raining?"

"I am being careful," I grinned. "You think I would be anything less?"

"Well, it doesn't seem like it. It's more like you've got Road Rage on the brain instead of my safe--CASSIE WATCH OUT!!"

I swerved, blinded by the bright light ahead of me, and felt the impact of the steering wheel against me, all rational thought and consciousness being replaced by blackness.

[chapter 32 | chapter index | chapter 34]