My windshield wipers sway side to side keeping the snow out of my vision as my two best friends and I sing along to the radio. The only reason we were driving in this mess is because I was craving hot cocoa and we were out. They had agreed that hot cocoa was necessary, though, for our marathon of our favorite show.
As I’m turning down the road I feel the tires slipping and spinning on a black, frigid sheet of ice. I’m frozen but everything still keeps happening around me, like I’m watching it from a movie theater seat. The snow keeps falling as the car swerves toward the trees off the road. Shards of glass pierce my face and arms when the impact happens. I’m shaking in my seat with a few bleeding cuts, maybe a dislocated arm. As for my best friends, they will never smile, laugh, or drink hot cocoa ever again. I am unharmed and they are not. They are gone. The radio still plays a song that the three of us knew all the words to. There are so many could be’s that are never’s now.