Crimson

I used to take my dog, Sam, for a walk every day in the local park. Every day I would see this girl sitting under a tall, old, oak tree, smiling and reading long, heavy, books. She sat there peacefully with her lilac hair shimmering in the sun that peeked through the leaves of the oak. A gentle breeze blew through the leaves and her hair so that they moved almost as one. Every once and awhile she would read a magazine or a newspaper, but more often than not she would be reading thick books that would take the average person years to read, but for her it only took days. 

Some days she would wave to me but we never actually talked, until, one day Sam got away from me. He ran right up to her and jumped onto her as if he had known her for years. She didn't mind. She laughed and asked me all sorts of questions about him. After a while of talking about Sam, I asked her about her books. Her face lit up as if my simple question showed more interest in her life than anyone ever had before. She carried on and on about her books until I asked if she wanted to go get a coffee with me. She said yes. 

We walked out of the park and to Main street and waited at the crosswalk for that little walking guy to tell us it was okay to go. As we stepped out onto the crosswalk a car barreled through the intersection. She stepped out before me and, as she hit the hood of the car, I yanked Sam’s leash back. I could have pulled her away from the car. I have two hands, don't I? But instead, I watched her bounce off the hood of the car and hit the pavement. I did nothing. Even after it was over, I just stood there and watched her lilac hair turn crimson from the blood. I think of her every now and then, the nameless girl with lilac hair. I often wonder if the blood stained her hair and what would have happened if I had pulled her back. Perhaps if I had tried to pull her back, I would have ended up on the pavement with her. Our hair turning crimson as we lay there. Still. Silent. Dying. Crimson.

Author's Note

Please leave feedback. I want to know what you think!

Reviews

[alanwgraham]

Good Samantha. First of all is this fiction? It has the feel of an event that might have happened. First you have the mystery of the girl reading the long books. Then your meeting and making friends and finally the tragedy of her being killed. The first time I read it you almost make it almost sound like you chose not to pull her back. I guess this isn't the case. Perhaps you have to clarify this but very interesting and concise little story.
Regards,
Alan

[Samantha Croix]

Thank you so much for the review. This is fiction. Do you have any suggestions of how I could clarify?

[alanwgraham]

You could say something like 'I don't know how many times I've relived those awful moments but I know that there's nothing I could have done - it just happened too fast!' That's just one idea.
Stick in with your writing and it always helps to get someone else to read it with fresh eyes.
Cheers, Alan