A short story of how quickly life can change,for the worst.
I was 11 years old when my mom (Dianne krichtone)was killed in a car crash by an impared driver, I remember watching the news with my grandad, quietly listening to the weather report when an emergency report fills the screen. As i read the report slowly, i hear a quiet knock at the door. My grandad and were suprised because usaully when the blinds are shut and the lights are off it means wer'e Not Home but apparently not to who ever is behind our oddly wood paneled door. About 30 seconds go by until someone calls out from behind the door " Mr. Krichtone its the police, we need to talk about your daughter Dianne ". Immediatly my Grandad hops from his seat as fast as an 83 year old man can, speedly walks down the stairs an opens the door. when he turns around i watch the police officer pull his hat down and take a knee I can see the tears forming in my Grandads eyes as the police officer trys to calm him down. Im suprised at the fact that no one is trying calm me down until i relize im just standing there motionless like a statue with a gaping hole where my mouth should be. I feel alone but yet surrounded horrible feelings, as I take every carefully placed footstep it feels like the floor behind me is caving in leaving me trapped in my own little box where i try so desperatly to get away from the terrible things that just happened. It takes 3 months for my deppression to pass, but i still wake late at night thinking my mom is asleep in the next room but a few memories snap me back to my horrible realality. my mom is dead , my grandad has cancer,i am alone, But it will get better, I hope.