The Road Monologue

The sun broke through the clouds on that crisp April morning as we drove to school. That morning felt off, a feeling that I had felt only one time before. The world moved too fast for me and I struggled to catch up. The raspy voices of the men on radio show thundered over the speakers in my father’s truck as we approached the school. (Imagery) They spoke of a story that interested me, so I placed all my attention to they mystery men in the radio. “There was a fatal crash last night resulting in the death of a thirteen year old girl,” choked one of the men, “Cathedral student Ellie Sovada was killed when then car veered off the road and struck a tree.” My heart sunk as I heard those words. Panic filled my body; I could feel it rushing through my veins. I looked up at my dad and managed to utter, “Dad, I think that girl is on my soccer team” “They mix up names on the radio all the time Alz,” he assured, “it’s probably nothing, have a good day I love you.” The walk up to the front doors was a roller coaster of emotions (metaphor), a foggy and unsettling stroll. I wanted to get inside. I wanted to find my friends. I wanted to know the truth. I wanted to understand what was going on, but most of all I wanted it to not be true. (Repetition) I

I pushed open the heavy office door and found my way to the rest of my team. As I entered the room a blanket of sadness swept over me, and I couldn’t help but look down at my old tennis shoes, trying to choke down my devastation. I settled into a chair at the table, and all we could do was stare into nothingness. The cold, depressing, dark room was crowded in silence, yet it seemed so loud. The horrendous silence was finally broken by a voice that brought us all to tears, “Hello girls, I know this is hard, but we have to stay strong and work together,” he encouraged, “stay together for the day, and support one