I looked out the grimy window and thought about how a lily blooms. How it slowly opens up and unfolds its delicate white petals. How it faces the sun and soaks in the warmth. A beautiful flower in this world of dirt and darkness. What are we put in this world for? What is my purpose in life?
I ran a forefinger over the window to try to open up a clear spot. It didnít work. The window remained just as dirty as before. I turned around to see my room. A small bed next to the window, a bedside table littered with junk and a lamp, and a closet in the far corner opposite the door. The hardwood floor was partially covered with a threadbare carpet. The light bulb overhead had burned out a couple of days ago. Iíd been using the lamp instead. Did you ever notice how when itís dark in the room and you turn a lamp on instead of the overhead light it makes the room seem a bit cozier?
I turned back to the window as a lightning bolt flashed. I turned again and walked to the door. It opened with a creak. I walked out pushing the white painted wooden door closed. The floor boards creaked as my weight pushed down on them. I looked over the waist high railing down to the main floor of our house. My mom was sitting on the couch with a blanket watching TV while my dad sat at a table near the window working on the same puzzle he had been for the last two weeks. ĎThis has to be one of the most boring Saturdays in existence.í I thought to myself.
I walked down the stairs and said ďHey, Iím going for a walk.Ē
My parents barely acknowledge me as I grabbed a coat and head for the door across from the stairs. I walked out the door as another bolt of lightning flashed. I started walking to who knows where; just putting one foot in front of the other. The sidewalk was riddled with cracks which were in turn filled with weeds and an occasional little yellow flower. My black and white high-top sneakers flopped along as I led them down the street and around the corner. There were a few more blocks of houses until you reached the downtown shops. I looked up and down the street wondering what I would be doing now if I had been born somewhere else. I started to cross the street as the raindrops began to patter. I didnít care if I got wet. My coat needed to be cleaned anyway.
I remembered that there was a small park a block and half up and headed towards there. It was one of those dinky little parks you find in the poor part of town. Just a metal slide, three swings, and a sand box big enough for maybe four toddlers to play in. The rain drops got a bit bigger and faster. My hair was getting wet and the water was starting to drip down my face. Another bolt of lightning flashed as I stepped off the curb and into the street again. That one was closer than the rest. Maybe it wasnít such a good idea to go to the park. I was half way across the street when I decided to turn around. Suddenly a pair of bright lights hit me as a car swung around the corner a block down. It came racing toward me. I was rooted to the spot. My eyes grew big as the black Chevy Impala swerved to miss me, but it hit dead on. My body flew twenty feet backwards. I landed with a thud on the tarmac. My head hit hard and I blacked out. It must have been only a minute that I had passed out because when I woke up the rain was hitting my face and I was facing the sky. I noticed that I was spread eagle on the ground. There was someone standing over me with their mouth hung open in shock.
I donít know who the person was, but they turned and ran back to their car, got in, and drove off in a hurry. A cop car with its sirens on swung around the same corner the Impala originally had and made for me. However the cop must have seen me lying there, because I heard a screech of breaks as stopped about three feet from me. I tried to get up to show him I was okay, but I couldnít. It was as though someone had pushed an off button on me. I heard a door slam and soon the cop was kneeling over me with his fingers on my neck. I guess he didnít like what my vein was telling him because he ran back to his car and started talking rapidly into his radio.
It was then that my head rolled to the side and I could see a large pool of crimson liquid forming. It must have been originating from my head as there was no other place for it to come from. The cop hurried back into view as I felt like throwing up, realizing that the crimson liquid was my own blood. The cop knelt over me again and I could clearly see his young bright blue eyes. There was panic in them, panic as to whether I would live or die. I heard the sirens of an ambulance rushing towards us as my vision started to blur. The cop must have noticed my eye lids sinking because he pounded the ground and said, ďNO, damn it! Hold on, just a bit longer!Ē
I tried to listen to him, but everything was slipping away, like a sidewalk chalk drawing during a downpour. Color seemed to fade to gray, the edges of the young cops face blurred into the tree branches above him. My head flopped to the side as I felt his hand touch my hand. Warmth, comfort. Was this how the white lily felt from the sun? I may never know.