A drive

Photo by Brooke Lewis on

It was snowing. She thinks there was hail as well because she remembered the sound of rocks hitting the windshield. It was freezing with blazing winds.

She just got the car two months ago and also her driving license just two months ago as well. She never drove a car before and her family didn’t live in a place that had true cold weather in the winter. She didn’t know there was a function to heat the windshield so the ice melted on it own in the car. Every half hour, she had to stop on the side of the road. She and South, her cousin, took turn coming out of the car scrapping the ice off the windshield. It was stupid, but worked marvelously. She could see the road clearly. Everytime the windshield started to fog with ice, she stopped and scraped.

She drove the whole time on the right lane, going very slowly. She had no intention of speeding in that type of weather. South played her cool hip music on the radio and they both sang along. That cozy feeling inside the car was heart warming. Then she started to realize everyone suddenly moved to the left lane. She didn’t get it. Why would people wanted to speed up in this weather? If you drove slow, you would do it on the right lane. Then in the dark, in the same lane with her, she saw a big truck ahead. She felt better. Someone else was also on the same lane.

But then she continued getting closer and closer to the truck. At first, she just thought that the truck was moving very slowly. Then she realized that the truck did not move at all and she was approaching it fast. Shit! She pressed on the break hard. The whole car jerked to the front, South bumped into the front dash board. It was hailing outside and the road was frozen. The car slid on the road. The break didn’t do anything it supposed to do. South closed her eyes tightly and hugged herself as small as possible. She tried her one last attempted to turn the wheel to the left to avoid as little damage as possible.


Her car slid right into the truck. The air bag popped open and hit her hard on the face. Everything was blacking out for a second. She couldn’t hear anything. She couldn’t see anything.

A second later, she opened her eyes, feeling sure she was still alive. She immediately looked at South. South looked fine, no bleeding, no burn.

“Are you ok?” She yelled

“yes yes I think so” South replied “are you?”

“yeah. I think so”

She then looked up straight ahead and realized her effort to turn the wheel was worth it. Only the right side of the bumper hit the truck. That right corner was crushed. But at least, the whole car was not hitting anything anymore.

She never felt closer to death than that moment.


A mandatory survey

Photo by Negative Space on

<Ring! Ring! Ring!>

“Hello? This is Jenna speaking.”

“Hello. This is Demon Beta. We are calling from the Grim Reaper office about a mandatory life span survey. It is required that everyone takes this survey. Do you have a minute to talk now?”

“Oh hi. I can talk in about 3 minutes. I’m taking my kid out to the school bus now, I’ll put you on hold then I can be right back. Is that ok?”

“Yes, madam. I’ll hold.”

<hold music playing>

“Hi. This is Jenna. Thank you for waiting. I’m back.”

“Hi Jenna. Can we talk about the survey now?”

“Sure. Go ahead. I can talk now.”

“Thank you. So how this is going to work is, I’m going to ask you a series of questions. After each set of questions, from the information you provided me, I will provide you with a estimate time deduction. Please keep in mind that those are only estimations. We do not guarantee that the estimations will happen exactly within the time frame we provided. We are not responsible to answer any questions that we deem inappropriate. Can I please get a confirmation that you understand the procedure of the survey?”

“Sure. I understand. I confirm.”

“Very good madam. So first question, how often do you use hard drugs like heroin, cocaine, and methamphetamine?”

“Oh, no. I don’t use them. Never.”

“Ok. So your estimate time deduction is 0 for that question. Next question, how often do you smoke cigarrette or consume tobacco products?”

“Uhm. Not that often anymore. I do smoke everyday but I tried to only do once a day.”

“Ok. So your estimate time deduction for that question is 8 years.”

“Yeah. I do expect that.”

“Ok. Good. How often do you drink alcohol?”

“About once or twice a week.”

“Your estimate time deduction for that question is six years. Do you have depression?”

“Depression? No, no. I’m sad here and there, like everyone else, but no, not depression.”

“Madam, I just want to remind you that it’s illegal to provide wrongful information to the Grim Reaper agency. We already had all your information.”

“No. I wasn’t lying. I really don’t have depression. I don’t think it’s bad enough to be call a depression. Where do you get that information from?”

“Ok, madam. So going off from what I have on file about your mental health, your estimate time…”

“I asked you where you got that information from? Don’t ignore me. Answer that. Who said I have depression?”

“Madam, calm down. Your estimate time deductio…”

“I’m fucking calm. Who do you think you are to call my house and called me a liar and told me I had depression? I’m not weak. I don’t have depression.”

“Madam, those questions are considered inappropriate so I won’t answer them. You had confirmed to understand the survey procedure earlie…”

“I don’t care about procedure. I wanted to know who marked me as a wimpy, pathetic, depressed person?”

“Madam, since you are repeatedly violated our initial survey agreement, this survey had to stop here today. Someone from our agency will contact you again in the future to finish the survey. I just want to let you know, with depression, your estimate time deduction range from 5 to 20 years. Your child will be any age from 12 to…”


This post is a reply to a weekly prompt from VJ’s blog. I really enjoyed writing up this quick prompt.


A sign of time

I thought I would remember his face forever, his smile, his little dimple on the left cheek. I thought I could never forget. I was so certain. He used to be the most important person in my life. I used to love him more than anything in this world. He was my baby son after all. I carried him. I knew him before anyone else even had a chance. I remembered holding him in my arms for the first time. He looked like a wrinkly plum, but so warm. I cried as soon as I held him. I never felt a better kind of joy.

Ben and I took him home, put him in the crib. Ben spent days building, painting the crib, and he was so proud to finally put it to good use. My baby slept in there for the whole 3 years of this life. He didn’t get to die in his beloved crib. But it didn’t matter. Ben burnt it anyway because in the beginning, I used to spend nights sitting next to the crib and cry. It hurt so bad but I didn’t know what to do to ease the pain. All I could do was crying, as if that was going to help with anything. I even put Ben through hell that whole time.

All that and now I started to forget how my baby look like. I used to stay up all night next to his hospital bed to carve his face to my memories and now I forget. I didn’t completely forget how he looked like of course. But I started to forget the little things. I’m not sure about his ears anymore. His forehead is also fuzzy. I’m scared. I shouldn’t forget him. I ran to Ben panicking that I started to forget. That I can’t live with the guilt of forgetting my only son. Ben told me to let go. It’s a sign of the times he said. I shouldn’t have to wake up in the middle of the night because of nightmares anymore. It’s a sign. It’s time.

I cry again. That’s the only damn thing I can do nowadays it seems. But I can’t believe I can live till this day, till the day I’m allow to forget a little. There was a time I was certain that I wouldn’t forget, that this sadness was it for me, that I would die carrying this pain with me for the rest of my life. But I started to forget. And it all started with his ears.


Dear Michael

Photo by Karolina Grabowska on

Dear Michael,

By the time you receive this letter, I’m probably far away. I can’t tell you where I am, but trust me it is somewhere good. I’m probably lying in the sun while reading a book or drinking a margarita. Yes, a margarita. I haven’t had one for a really long time because doctors said I shouldn’t drink. You even gave up your wine in solidarity with me. But I’m drinking margaritas now, and you should pick up a bottle of wine for yourself as well. Now that things are almost over. There’s no need to hold back anymore.

First off, I wanted to say I’m very sorry. I knew you probably panicked when you couldn’t find me. I hate to leave you this way, but if I ever face you, I would never be able to leave and you would not let me go. I didn’t leave you because of anything you did. I left because I chose to have the last few days for my own. I’m selfish and I’m eternally sorry for that.

Next, I wanted to thank you. Thank you for everything, Michael. I’m grateful to have met you, to have live my life with you, to share every meal, to cuddle on the same bed, to have you on my hospital bed side. You know I’m not a religious person but I believed ever since I met you. How could I not? I met an angel and I felt in love. A literal angel from heaven. The ones that people often seen drawn naked in fancy art museums. That would make anyone change their minds.

Michael, you are the best thing that ever happened to my short little life. You are my dream, my love and my life. I don’t know much about all the rules of Heaven but I knew you had to fight to be here with me. Then, me, being the selfish jerk I am, had to get sick and wither away. I didn’t want you to see me in the last moments of my life. I didn’t want the last image of me you see as a living person was on a cold hospital bed. I wanted you to always remember me as the young, bright 18 years old girl you met in front of Central Park. I will live a short life. But you, you’ll live for eternity. When I die, everything ends with me. But you, you’ll have to carry the image of your love dying in your arms. I would rather not, for both you and me.

Michael, take good care of yourself. Love yourself, love someone else. Find peace in the pain. May God give you a blessing. Please forgive me and forget about me. In the end, we were just a moment in your eternity.



This little quick write was a response to the Tuesday Writing Prompt of the Go Dog God Cafe. Such a great prompt this week.


We’d know

Photo by Pixabay

A tree growing up was pliable

Its leaves were weak and so were the petals

Then its physique changed for the tougher

Bark got rough and the leaves got hard.

That’s when it died.

When we were born

We were torn into this world

Our skin soft and our fingers curled

This whole new place was a blur.

And the years added on

Everyday from dusk till dawn

We were a step closer to bygone.

We were eons of anguish

We were decades of dismay.

We had overstayed our places on Earth

We got rough and numb

And we’d know it was time to go.