A Dose Of Reality

Chapter 2

I had opened my eyes to a sight that was nothing but scary. Ashes and grey. I felt my stomach and ankle ache badly, and my head was bleeding. My arm was trapped under the arm rest. I looked around and my eye caught on the torn up seats. Then the memories flashed back. The Jeep was so broken down. In fact, the car ceiling was no where to be seen and the left passenger door was half torn.
Jenna. Mom. Dad. Those were the three words that I thought of. I got out of the car, using a rock to break the windows and peeked in. Then I saw Jenna first. She was lying on top of the luggages. Her hair was ashen and she her face ghostly white. I couldn't make out her face, but I knew it was her. Mascara dripped down her face, mixed with a red liquid. Blood. I rushed over, panicked.
"Jenna!" I screamed, shaking her body. Nothing. She was cold and her eyelids were firmly closed. "Jenna, please." I pleaded one last time before moving on to examine mom. She seemed less injured, but her neck was snapped. Her head through the front window. Definitely dead. I knew that but I wouldn't let myself believe so. "Mom, don't leave me too. I know you can do it." I urged, but she was already dead too. I started crying so hard that my body vibrated.
Dad's cause of death was more obvious. His head was swinging out the door and blood gushed down his forehead. He probably tried so hard to steer that his head hit the window, knocking him out. Then when he got bombed, the door opened and his head was probably dragged along the jagged road. "I'm so sorry." I whispered in his ear and brushed he dust of my jeans.
I wasn't the one who deserved to live. I was the one who deserved to die the most. I would never survive. I got the least torn up backpack out of the backseat and rummaged through the luggages, which was incredibly easy with half of it already exposed and torn up.
I got a few bottles of soda. Then I gave myself a sad giggle. The only thing that my parents got was soda. Then I got a shot gun, necessary in fighting, which used to be dad's during his military training days. I also got boxes of matches, a can of sardines and a Swiss army pocket knife.
There was one last thing I wanted to do. "I hate you Razai's! And if your stupid surveillance cameras are catching this, I hope you know that you haven't won yet!" I screamed loudly, and knowing that they have won and I couldn't do anything. I kicked a pebble along the way, my hands balled up. Then I heard footsteps.