Chapter Text
The remains of the black Chevrolet Camaro littered the road. A brunette woman was lying on her side in the wooded area to the left of the road. If you’d seen her from behind, she would’ve looked like she was taking a peaceful nap. But from the front you could see the blood dripping from where her chest should be and the slashes covering her face. You could see that her left knee was bent at a wrong angle. But from the back, it looked like she was taking a peaceful nap. Inside what remained of the vehicle, a tall dark haired man was slumped over the steering wheel. His head was over the wheel resting on the dash. His arm, one at his side and one were lying beside his head. His shoulders twisted in odd ways. His face was cute by the broken glass but he suffered an even worse affliction unseen by the naked eye. A broken heart. He stirred. He sat up slowly, broken bits of glass falling from his leather coat like cruel snow. His blue eye were clouded over by intoxication and his arms moved like they were under water. He grasped where the handle should be, and upon realizing nothing was left of the door, stepped out of the wreckage. His body was no longer scarred. He lifted his head to take a look at the girl. But it was already too late. He balled his hands into fists and took off running. He was gone, as the sirens became less of a distant memory.
~
“I’m sorry…” the sheriff said, scribbling notes on a pad. A fire truck, an ambulance, and three police cars cluttered the street. The body was gone, she was declared dead on the scene. The glass was still being removed along with various car parts.
“This was no accident.” The stone faced man uttered. His blue eyes were hardened with life, his salt and pepper hair slightly more gray. His arms were folded across his chest. His expression was cold. And his tone was firm.
“Dad?” A gangly brown haired boy piped up. He was standing behind the two men, hands in his pockets.
“What?” The gray haired man snapped.
“She’s dead isn’t she?” The boy looked like a puppy that had been kicked. He seemed lost out of place. His red flannel shirt was too casual. His Chuck Taylor’s too faded. The man grunted in his direction. The boy opened his mouth but closed it on second thought. “Damnit Allison.” He muttered under his breath.
~
“She wanted to die.” He couldn’t stop repeating the phrase to himself. He was sitting on the floor of the motel. His clothes long gone, replaced with faded sweatpants. His head was slumped into his hands. This was his entire fault.
~
Author's Note: Hello all! First story on AO3. Please leave feedback, dollfaces. I love you all.