Death 95.5 FM

“Death 95.5 FM”

“Mother, I am heading out the door! I’ll see you later. Me and the boys are getting back on Sunday, I love you—“

“Wait my boy, let me give you a big ol’ kiss.”

“But Mama, Darren is outside waiting with everyone else. I’m going to be late.”

“Oh Tucker go give your mother a kiss, it’ll only take a second. Be safe now, kiddo, and keep in touch.”

“See you later father.” I quickly slip on my shoes and grab my varsity jacket that has “Class of 1995” on the back off it, and run out of the front door before they could say anything else. I turn towards the driveway and see the best sight I’ve seen in a while, three of my best friends. I hopped in the back of the stunning red 1986 Mustang GT convertible that my friend, Darren, got for his 21st birthday. After I got settled in and we decided that we would take shifts driving because it was a long trip, we drove off to start our adventure of a lifetime.

“How do y’all think you did on the finals?” said Jeremey.

“C’mon man! Its summer vacation. We can’t talk about school the first day of our break.” I said.

“Yeah I guess you are right, so what is everyone looking forward to in Florida?” responded Jeremy.

“Dude just soak up the sun and enjoy the breeze right now. We can worry about everything later.” Clyde said.

“Well I’m just happy we are all together—“

Jeremey gets cut off by the group and a calm peaceful silence rules the air. Hours go by on the open road, switching lanes and taking exits, but now it’s someone else’s turn to go behind the wheel. The convertible comes to a smooth stop in a McDonald’s parking lot and the switch between Darren and Clyde was made. “Let’s stop and get something to eat! I am starving.” Jeremy said whilst rubbing his stomach to show exactly ...

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...my friends wake up out of their deep slumber. The radio turns to static. I panic and smash the knob of the radio to try to make the radio stop and make it go back to regular music.

“What are you doing Tucker! Calm down! I just got this car don’t ruin it! Stop smashing the radio!” yelled Darren. “Give me the wheel!”

My arms and legs buckle up trying to get the horrifying story out of my head. I can’t let go off the wheel. Darren is taking control and trying to steer us safety off to the side of the road. My legs still won’t move. I can’t let up on the gas. The convertibles lights flash off and all of a sudden on I’m on the cold hard ground. Blood is everywhere and my friends are scattered around the car. I can’t move my neck. The car lights turn back on. I notice that it is on top of my body and wrapped around a tree. The radio comes on again.

“I died May 5, 1995”