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My first attempt at a short story, that could possibly turn out to be a thriller.

In two seconds flat an emotion can be disrupted by unsettling answers to questions you'd never wish you had, and incidentally, two seconds was all the time she had to respond to the state trooper before it would be too late. Sweat or tears had no time to fall down her paled cheekbone, but even if she did have that time, she felt no emotion. She had little time to know what to do, so she got in his SUV and left for home. She hadn't even thought to tell her boss she was leaving, not that it would be a problem seeing the circumstances.

Now she had a moment to react, now that she had no control over how fast she got home or whether the shock would lead her to drive off the road, making situations much worse. she looked over to the Trooper and read the name tag on his tan uniform jacket. "Officer... Carson..." she said in almost a daze "Can you at least tell me who it is...". "Sorry Ma'am, my job was to take you home safely and I'm afraid you will... well I'm not supposed to let you get hurt" he said, wondering if that was the right response. "Oh..." She said hesitantly, she needed to know who it was.

Her mind and heart were racing as if they were the ones in a race to get home. She noticed the forty six mile marker on the side of the highway, it was closer but it didn't put her at ease. Perhaps it was all a lie? Impossible. But that was one of the few thoughts to run through her mind at the time. She felt short of breath as they got closer. Now all she could think about is how could someone break that news to her? A heartless person, a terrible person is the only type to send her news that an accident had happened at home. She grew infuriated by Officer Carson so much that her facial expressions sank deep into him like a knife twisting away at his heart. "Please Ma'am, don't look at me that way..." he said, as if he knew the emotion she was in. In reality she knew exactly the emotion she was in, because he had to deal with cases like these, not exactly but close, and he always felt like a murderer. She knew she had made him uneasy, so she looked away as a tear carefully made its way down to her chin.

Now, after a long cry, she felt more at ease and began to try to sort out what had happened. In her mind she ran through the facts, they told her that there was a freak accident that happened at home, they told her that they are sorry for her loss, but that was before Officer Carson knew that she hadn't known anything, and they told her that she needed to ride home with a trooper so that she got home safe. "A freak accident?" she thought to herself, and then, attempting to determine what she would define as a "freak accident" and her "loss" she knew for a fact, someone, or everyone, was dead. To her it seemed that she needed to get home safely for the police department's benefit, not her own, she was ready to get home to identify the body.

She was trembling at the thought that someone was dead, her husband James, her sons, Vance and Hunter, or her youngest new born girl, Hilana. One of them was in trouble and she couldn't take the pain and cold she felt. She knew her boys liked to roughhouse but could they have hurt themselves that badly? it was a possibility, her James, she knew, was a very careful person, always making sure the house alarm was on before they left, checking to see if all of the appliances were turned off, and always pouring water on the wick of her scented candles at night before they went to sleep. That was it, she thought, the house must have caught on fire. James stayed home from work today, which is why the babysitter wasn't there, he was sick with the flu, maybe out of weakness and exhaustion he forgot to turn off a candle, or left the stove on. She now felt homeless, she wouldn't know what to do, she began imagining life without her family, she would have to move in with a close aunt that lives nearby. But life would never be the same.

Her heart dropped to her stomach as they drove on a street just minutes, even seconds, from her home. She began to sob. She couldn't decide whether to close her eyes or keep them open to see her life unraveling. As they inched closer she could see from a distance that her house was still standing, unscathed. No smoke, no red firetrucks, but one simple police car. Closer, two boys holding each other tightly as if they were afraid, one patting his head and talking to the other. And James, crouched on the ground, he looked as if he was crying. they pulled to the side of the house, she nervously opened the car door. The police officer was taking photos of James' car, tire full of blood that almost didn't seem human. she turned away. James, looking even paler than he did when she left him in the morning, eyes veiny and red, hands full of blood, ran up to her and held her, sobbing, she pushed him to the ground.

Author's Note

I got this idea from just having a group conversation with my professor about short stories. He mentioned an idea similar to this and mentioned that it had happened in real life. I wanted to put a twist in it, hold it from a different perspective, and see how it turns out. I don't feel like paying too much attention to grammar and spelling, but I'm sure, somehow, I still will.