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Enter Poem or Quote (Required)Required Anniversary of My Death February 5th, 2018 was the thirty-third anniversary of my death date. I always remember it, sadly. I opened my eyes. Surprised to be alive. Sprawled onto hard mean concrete pavement. Was it any consolation that one of the honking cars stayed? Was she doing me a favor? An older woman gave me a sad look, then drove off like the others, leaving me to die. The allure of the dark woods which were about ten feet away called me. Could I make it that far? I took a step. A sword of burning hot searing pain blew up through my leg from the heel. I tried to get up using my bike as a crutch, and fell back into the street. My leg was broken straight across in five breaks all the way down from my upper thigh to my ankle. Of course, I did not know this yet. I was in shock that I had gone from living to dead so fast. With a pivot and a scream I attempted to use the bike as a crutch. It was no mirage that the pedal was gone, broken off by my delicate foot. A police car came by. The younger officer was motioning wildly, pointing to me. My face was half torn off too, but I did not feel that yet. I understood every non-verbal when the older policeman shook his head ‘no’ and drove on. Six o’clock shift change. I would have been paperwork. A dulcet melody flowed into my mind as I lay down on the grass, next to the curb. Ready for death, welcoming it. Next week, will be the thirty-fourth anniversary. The date I realized people are not always kind. The death of my innocence. Written January 31, 2019 Contest: 8 Word Anniversary Sponsor: Michelle Faulkner
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