She Was Too Young To Go

She was too young to go Cakes and I were racing our bikes down the hill, like two squirrels racing for food, through a wheat field and farm, side by side, we went. On the other side was a lake, where we would go canoeing and fishing. We were like brother and sister, although she had red hair and freckles to my black hair and dark features. It seemed like ... that midnight summer, we grew together, being inseparable. And as second graders we often heard the song "Cakes and Tangerine sitting in a tree k-i-s-s-i-n-g." It didn't bother us. We were two cute squirrels always running after each other. As we neared the lake, sun setting, wind loosing it's breath; sky graying. We come to a crossing, needing to get to the other side. Against a blind turn, into speeding traffic we rode...we rode ... we rode. Then our world stopped. I remember the sound of brakes screeching, car careening off guard rail, glass breaking. And seeing Cake's body thrown atop the roof of the car. Later I looked into her lifeless eyes, prodding her to wake. Part of her scalp was missing. She was gone. I remember the driver, bawling uncontrollably as his world came to an end, too. This hurts. connie pachecho 3/16/17