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Through the Eyes of My Soul
“Katrina, hurry up!” I yelled. “I don’t want to loose you!” My best friend Katrina and I were riding our bikes down the edge of the road, racing for our favorite place to be together- the church fountain. It was a small, man- made waterfall about three feet tall. The water ran down into a small pond; a bridge going over the water in between the waterfall and the pond. A cozy bench sat in the middle of flower bushes and small trees.
“Allie, slow down! You’re going way too fast for me!” she screamed back at me. Katrina was a thin-haired brunette, brown eyed, ten year old girl. Her hair went no farther than her chest, and was worn behind her ears. She was also a little short for her age. Even though I’m three years and ten months older than her, we have had a connection that no one can break. Our personalities clash together and stick, like super glue to paper. There’s no better friend for me than her. She’s even pretty smart for her grade level, so we always understand each other perfectly.
I myself am fourteen, brunette, thin haired, brown eyed, average height, and my hair is a little longer than my chest, by a centimeter or so. Katrina and I have been mistaken for sisters because we have many of the same features. We go together like sound to an ear.
Back riding our bikes, I had been about four meters ahead of her when a blue minivan appeared, going way over the speed limit. “Car!” I called out. As it passed me, I thought all was fine until I heard a CRASH and slammed breaks. It startled me so much I fell off my bike and onto the pavement. CRACK! I could hear my arm break as it hit the ground. A shooting pain seared though my arm; I screamed out a cry of agony.
From where I was now, I could see the minivan stopped so its front side was towards the houses and its rear was in the middle of the road. Lying on the sidewalk with a blue bike on top of her was a brown haired, ten year old girl. Katrina!
To worried to remember my arm, I pushed myself onto my feet, and as I did so, a piercing sting shot through my arm like a thousand needles stabbing my skin. “Aggghhh!” I cried as I stood up.
I began racing toward her, and the fast beating of my heart drowned out all the other sounds around me. The only other thing I could hear was my panting breath and pounding feet. All I could think about was is she alright? Is she alive? Is she breathing?
I finally got to her and fell on my knees, bruising them. But I wasn’t worried about me. I was worried about her. I pushed the bike over and dropped my head to her chest. I was relived to know that her heart was still beating. Her head was bleeding and her side was bruised very badly. I grabbed her head and laid it in my lap, calling out for help. An elderly lady saw everything from her nearby house and had already called 911. The man in the minivan was passed out, and I guessed he has been drunk driving.
I brought her head up to my chest and hugged her, whispering, hoping she could hear my soothing voice. “It’s going to be alright. Just hold on. They’re coming to help you, and I won’t leave your side.”
My arm was hurting worse than ever now, and I was starting to feel woozy. My eyes slowly closed, and everything went black as I fell backwards into the soft, bouncy grass, loosing my grasp on Katrina.
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