Boom.
That was all I heard before I looked to the front seats of the car.
Blood.
Blood everywhere.
Daddy's dead.
Momma's hurt.
"Go Get Help! Quick, Baby!"
Those were the desperate orders my mom yelled, as she sorrowfully bled out.
Hands, shaking...Shaking hands.
Body Trembling.
Heart Racing.
Tears.
Running.
I don't know where to go.
I took one last look to the car as I ran off.
Then I stopped. I had no more reasons to run.
Daddy's head slumped over on Momma as she cradled his wounded head.
Momma closed her eyes crying, covered in Daddy's blood.
I dropped to the ground in tears.
•
Each Memory Is different.
Once I had a dream, picturing what I would've felt like if I would've saw the shot hit Daddy...
:
Boom. Blood splashes all over momma, and onto my pink capris that momma had bought me the previous week.
I'll never forget... The little neatly knitted flower decal was stained red.
Somehow I always hold myself accountable...
If I had...Just...Gotten Help Sooner...
Tzipora Parsons.
That's my name.
Given to me by my sweet, loving mother.
...My tough, hard-working, sincere Father.
Life went downhill for that little girl that year.
She had always wondered, 'Why Me?'
"Jennifer down the street's got a Mom and Pops, How Come I don't?'
I wish I could've told that little Girl that everything would be alright...
But I couldn't...
Cause it wasn't true.
YOU ARE READING
take care. {m.f}
RomanceAfter horrifying events of her past, Tzipora is living life as a successful young woman, surviving with PTSD. She has a strong love for basketball and soon grows a strong love for a rookie. Markelle Fultz is your everyday young, black boy. He's a s...
