Peer Review by Anne Blackwood (United States)

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When I Ran

By: AbigailSauble


FREE WRITING

"Sorry, Vicky. I can't do this anymore."
   The words cut deeply into my heart, and as I drove home, hot tears clouding my vision, they echoed around and around in my mind. 
I knew I would remember those words forever.
   My hands trembled on the steering wheel as I braked to a halt at the all-way stop sign. It became a red smudge as tears continued to stream down my salty face.
   "It hurts." It came out as a whimper. I had to swallow hard to keep from sobbing out loud.
As though anyone would hear me. It was a bitter lonely thought, but I didn't take it back.
   A car horn beeped angrily behind me, and I startled, a cry escaping my lips. My foot released the brake, and I stepped hard on the accelerator, revving my little Honda Accord through the intersection.
   I knew I should pull over, but my brain, or maybe my heart, kept urging me to go faster, to get as far away from my heartbreak as I could.
   "Sorry, Vicky. I can't do this anymore."
Caleb, why? My throat hurt, like something was pressing hard on it, and shoving a fist down it at the same time.
   More tears; I blinked them away.
A red light blurred in front of me, and I turned on my right signal; looked left.
   I wasn't really seeing anything, but I turned anyway. I just didn't care.
   My car jerked sharply, as though it had run into a wall.
My foot slammed on the brake as a man's face was shoved into view on my windshield. I screamed. But it sounded far away.
The man was young, with dark hair, and a pair of smashed glasses dangling about his face from the impact.
   I just hit someone. 
My mind froze. My grief disappeared, replaced by shock and a horrible numbness.
   I stared at that pale face; blood now starting to trickle out of a cut on his cheek.
He's dead. I'm a killer. 
   My whole body shook uncontrollably.
I'm a killer. 
   Still shaking, I pulled on the door handle, and stumbled out of my car. Snow was just starting to fall. So quiet against the sounds of traffic and a distant wail of a siren.
   A siren. I killed someone. 
I looked around. Someone else had stopped, and was talking hurridly on their phone, glancing over at the situation. Another was running towards me.
   I backed away, disbelief, I'm sure, apparent on my face.
A sob tore from my throat. The cry of a broken heart.
   "I'm sorry." I whispered.
And ran away.


Peer Review

I was taken on an emotional rollercoaster throughout this short story.


Maybe include a super quick description of Caleb's face, possibly a visualization of him saying "Sorry, Vicky. I can't do this anymore." when it's repeated. Remember, you know what he looks like, but your reader doesn't. The description of the man who was hit was wonderful, draw on that for inspiration.


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