HeadlineA Story by Mason Watts
I don't know why I wrote this or why I named it what I did.
I woke with feet of led and my head pounding. I drug myself out of my room into the kitchen stumbling over all the trash I left on the floor. I fell into a chair knocking over all the empty soda cans and glasses. I sat for a moment gathering myself then slowly stood propping myself up with the chair. I shuffled to the fridge and pulled out the milk. It was expired. I placed it back in the fridge. After a few fruitless moments of searching I sat back down.
I began to feel less weighed down so I walked to the front door and went out into the dark damp air. The ominous clouds loomed overhead foretelling a stormy future. I saw the newspaper laying on the front steps and tucked it under my arm continuing to look at the clouds. Soon I stepped back inside.
I threw the newspaper onto the couch and went on trying to find breakfast.
After a meager breakfast of a few crumbs from the Lucky Charms box and a little bit of Coke from a old can I sat on the couch and opened the paper. The front headline read, “Drunken college student killed in car accident.”
“That’s all you see these days,” I thought. “People getting drunk and dieing.” I continued to read:
“Twenty year old John Something died last night in a car accident.”
“John Something? That’s my name. And he‘s twenty.” I said aloud. “What a weird coincident.”
“He was driving from the party drunk and ran into a telephone pole,” I read.
My heart nearly stopped. I faintly remember leaving the party last night but nothing after that. I don’t remember getting home. My first thought was that the paper had somehow gotten their facts wrong, after all I was alive and reading the paper. Then I started to wonder if my parents knew I was alive.
I ran from the kitchen, grabbed my keys, and drove out of the neighborhood I lived in.
I pushed the gas peddle closer and closer to the floor as I sped down the highway towards my parents house. It took less then thirty minuets to get to there rather than the normal forty-five.
Outside of my parents house was an unusual amount of cars. Some of them I recognized, my uncle, two cousins, and my brother. What would they be doing at my parents house now.
I burst through the door almost screaming. “Mom! Dad!” I paused listening for an answer over the beating of my heart.
Nothing. I walked forward from the main hallway into the living room. My parents were sitting on the couch surrounded by my family. Everyone was crying.
“What’s going on?” I asked. No one looked up, or even acknowledged that I was there. “Hello?” No response. “HELLO!” I screamed. No one even moved. I ran over and touched my moms hand but I couldn’t feel it. It was as if my hand was numb.
“Mom, can you hear me?” She didn’t move, nod, or say anything. It was as if I wasn’t even there.
I ran around to each person trying to see if they could see or hear me. None could.
“Mom, Dad we have to go.” My brother told them. They both nodded and then stood with everyone else behind them. Outside waiting for them were two black cars. Everyone loaded into them and drove off. I followed them in my car to a graveyard. There everyone got out of the cars and went to a green tent that was over rows of chairs and a casket. I stepped out of the car and followed my family as they sat into the chairs. I walked slowly up to the casket.
It was like I was looking in a mirror. An exact image of myself lay in the casket motionless and pale.
“No,” I muttered as I backed away. “No, no, no. NO!” I turned around now in rage. “NO!” I ran to my crying mother. “I’m not dead! Why can’t you see me? I’m not dead!” I turned back to the casket and tried to flip it over but couldn’t. It was as if I had lost all my strength. My legs began to shake, my hands trembled. I fell on the grass unable to move. I could only watch as my funeral progressed.
“We are here today not only to mourn the death of a young man who has seemed to pass to soon but praise that he is in a better place.”
I began to weep, shaking where I lay.
“We can only pray that he passed the pearly gates into heaven where the Lord waits for him.” the preacher paused. “would anyone like to say a few words about young John?” A few people raised their hands.
They came up one by one saying nice things about me, some of which were un-true. Actually most of them where lies. I wasn’t what you would call a good person. I was actually what you would probably call a bad person. I had never stolen anything or killed anyone but I hated many people and lied to many people. I hated hearing them say that I would pass on to a better place because I knew it was a lie. I was doomed for hell.
After everyone was finished saying their lies the preacher spoke again. “Let us pray.” They prayed but I couldn’t hear him over the sounds of my sobs. He finished and people stood and walked past my body, some placing things with my body. When finally my parents came forward crying.
“I’m right here,” I said. “I’m right here.” They walked away.
They began lowering my body into the ground. Slowly it passed me where I lay as I watched. As it reached the bottom of the hole some unseen force pushed me forward, towards the casket.
“No, no!” I screamed. “No!” I fell without a noise into the casket with my body.
© 2010 Mason Watts
Added on July 11, 2010
Last Updated on July 11, 2010
Rock Hill, SC
AboutI'm a thirteen year old writer, hoping that someday that he will become a young accomplished writer with a lot of novel published and even more un-published. I have friends but none have a great (or g.. more..