My Mother's Car Accident

My eyes were deteriorating fast since I started using Tumblr. Driving to school past the park I came to terms it was autumn my favourite season: Trees almost naked with every branch bare, hearing the sound of rustling when people stomping through a crowd of crunchy leaves, though when the wind breathes it accelerates a leafy tornado swirling in a circular motion, smelling a fresh batch of rain from minutes ago and seeing the glistening as the biggest star made I admired. I use to walk to school every morning before my mum left us. Dropping Kaylee off at school I took a right turn where Jessica insisted to meet by the cascade fountain. I parked and by squinting my eyes I could already see she was dressed impressively kooky today. A jacket duplicating the print of a burgundy floral couch, vintage purple satin blouse with J’s scattered all over in different colours, an eagle bolo tie, the stripy snazzy saffron skirt, suede slip on shoes and to compliment her rouge knitting glasses someone had gifted. She ran to me.
“Hi Caymen!” Jessica giggled gesturing a wave and smiling sweetly, I pressed a button to bring down my car window halting it halfway. Perpetually I felt like an outcast driving an extravagant car which hence being the only rich student.
“Hi I have news,” I stated, “I’ve been nominated for my blog this year!” I uttered.
“That’s great Caymen” Jessica mumbled. Did I do something wrong?
“What?” I questioned.
“You just always talk about Tumblr” She complained flicking her fringe to the side frowning.
“Whatever,” I continued “I’m late for class. Forget about the plans going to be library at lunch” getting out of my car and slamming the door so I could hear the bleep noise to lock.
“Okaaaay” she said emphasising the word.
H...

... middle of paper ...

... and went inside Kaylee’s room; I sensed her guilt and feet stomping downstairs and out the door. Did I go too far, or did she when leaving us? Kaylee cried consecutively for five weeks, I wasn’t versed in cooking or especially nurturing a child and I practically sacrificed my teenage-hood.
The house phone started to ring. “We have a house phone?” I questioned myself rubbing my eyes giving off a weary sigh. When did I fall asleep? I headed downstairs and it stopped. Again it rang and I guessed it was on the bottom shelf hence lack of usage. Pulling off the dusty cloth I grasped the telephone and answered.
“Oh”
“Excuse me is Caymen there? I need to talk to Caymen?”
“Yes speaking? And I’m sorry this telephone never gets used”
“We’ve been trying to get a hold of you for hours; I’m afraid I have some bad news your mother had a car accident and unfortunately died…”