An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
This is a piece from a panel I went to on “Writing Realistic Death Scenes” at a local writing event. It has no fandom or anything, it’s just original works out of the blue.
I’m sorry that I killed a child here. It’s somewhat of a cautionary tale about being sleepy while driving.
Also, for those who don’t want to follow the link:
It was early that day, probably seven in the morning. I had been traveling on the road for fifteen hours, and I hadn't stopped to rest. Lord, I should have stopped somewhere, at least for two hours.
I was going through a small down, and was in a residential spot, but my mind wasn't all there. I faded in and out of consciousness. Despite the sunshine and blaring music in my car, I couldn't keep my eyes open.
There's a little girl fifteen feet ahead.
There's a ball eight feet ahead.
My eyes snapped open to see drops of blood on my windshield, and I heard screaming in front of my car. I got out as fast as I could to see what, or who, I hit. What I saw made me want to vomit:
The little girl from earlier. Her hair was mussed, her little pink dress covered in blood, her eyes dripped with tears, and blood oozed from her mouth. I'd later find out that my license plate was loose, and it gouged her stomach, but in that moment I felt like a murderer in the worst way possible.
Things blurred after that. Parents screamed, ambulance and policed sirens wailed, handcuffs clicked onto my wrists. The only thing I know for certain is that I killed an eight year old girl, because I wouldn't stop to sleep...