Secret Innocence

I do not live an ordinary life. My life is stuck with both feet in separate realities in different doors leading to opposite worlds. I have tried to understand my life as if I was an outsider looking in; giving myself a different perspective on how I should view myself and what I must do. But after reliving parts of reality through dreams and nightmares, the truth behind my life is and will never be easy; it is normally misleading and confusing unless it is explained.
I am not perfect. I am simply an ordinary girl whose life took a turn from steady to fast pace. I was not able to make a decision that impacted my life in a way that is hard to speak of. My voice cracks and turns silent when I tell of my story. I am not able to think straight. The only thing I want to think of is the beauty of love that was lost that one single moment in one single day. The hurt bruises my heart to the point of crippling to the ground. My body turns weak and dry like there is no air to breathe, making me choke. I just cannot believe what I did.
It was a quiet day in New York City. People looked upon the chosen square which took my life. Without knowing it those people were about to watch something that would be confusing and terrifying. A child’s scream inside a coffee shop while his mother was getting a mocha latte caught people’s attention. The child lifted his precious finger and pointed out to the fatal scene. Faces turned slowly as their eyes caught sight of a flipped car exploding. Fire inflamed the vehicle quickly with all its power. Sirens took over the silence of the air while police cars and fire trucks rushed to the rescue. People started encircling the area asking questions but no one had answers. I hear the screams of sadness shifting from side to side in my head. I remember fire illuminating in front of New York City’s eyes. I remember the child looking straight at me. When the firefighters finished the fire entirely they announced the status of the victim to the police. The accident was fatal. Who was the victim? Me.
I am not a ghost. I merely obeyed orders. To many people I knew I was no longer alive, especially to one special person in my life at that time. He became a stranger on that fatal day. I was no longer able to speak with him. The only contact I had was to listen to him cry and scream while he watched my car explode in front of his eyes. For the amount of hurt I caused his heart to endure there is not enough time to tell him how much I am sorry. As I stood behind the coffee shop’s window on the corner of the street I watched his face weep to tears falling down his cheeks as did my own tears. My eyes did not let go of him as he ran through the crowd to see if I was alright. The police asked him questions before they told him the fatal news. From that moment on my innocence turned into a deadly secret.