"Well I do want to be a Brownie because they do all sorts of neat things and I want to do them too, with my friends! Could you please call Mrs. Simmons and ask? Please, please?"
Based on what my Mother's told me since, I had just turned nine when the accident occurred. I was hit by a car while out riding my bicycle in the neighborhood. I don't remember much about the accident itself, I was too young and time heals such unpleasant memories by allowing them to fade away.
Erica inhaled deeply. It was the time of reckoning. She stood up and straightened her pink gown. She was proud of how pretty she looked. She took a step towards the back door, and then glanced back at Susan's house. Erica was hoping for a last second reprieve, but the governor was not calling.
Cycling home from school about eight years ago at his usual break neck speed, he took a bend too quickly and crashed into a car. He suffered a fractured femur and had severe abdominal injuries. I was telephoned at work with news of the accident and I then rushed to his bedside at the local sick kids hospital. There I met Amanda, my wife who was clearly visibly upset.