Langston

The snap of our footsteps are reflected in an enigmatic echo as we ponder the woods. I allow my fingers to brush through my unruly locks of jet-black hair. My friend Ted releases a deep cackle that gives the local birds knowledge of our presence and they then sail upwards, creating dusky streaks across the gloomy fall sky.
With a deep breath, anyone’s lungs would painstakingly be filled with the smell of wood smoke. The 7th graders must be up to their antics again. We make our way towards the break in the trees. Everything, once again, is in ample silence. Riverbed Street is only a few twigs and bushes away when it happens. Ted takes a single step onto the street and turns to look at me.
“Look,” he begins,” you and I have been best friends since I can remember. When I look at some of the people that I trust I can’t help but feel that the only person I should be able to trust is you. It’s just that you’re my best friend. And I don’t get how you could…could just-“
“Ted I only did it because-“ I interrupt two seconds late when the world ends. My sight is encased half in the sight of Ted and half in a blinding light. We turn to face whatever light has been shone upon us when Ted’s torso encases the front bumper of a 1990 Lexus. The beige paint of the front bumper and windshield is immediately obscured with Ted’s blood and the Lexus doesn’t fail to continue its 60 mph warpath as it plows diagonally into an old pine tree. I stand in shock.
In front of me I can see the remains of something or someone who resembles my best friend and a wrecked Lexus. Realization becomes my knowledge as I fall to my knees. The world then really ends and as far as I know I die. I can hear various voices and a siren as flashes of Ted’s parents crying, his sister gripping his blood-soaked hoodie and a police officer directing passing cars as an ambulance ten minutes too-late is waited for, pierce through my mind. Where are my parents? Why aren’t they here to cry over my perishing? I allow all the images to perish as well as I accept death. A cold wind blows over the small town of Langston, New Jersey.