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For my readers. Your support and enthusiasm humbles me.
I love this car. It smells so good. Papa just got it for us and Maman won’t let me eat or drink anything in it like I did in the other one. Maman says it’s cause’ it’s our first
. She always tells me that it’s our first new car in French and she makes her words sound all fancy. I think she does it to make me laugh. I like it when Maman uses French instead of English because she always uses her fancy voice. Papa scolds her when she does that. He says “Collette, you hinder our darling girl only speaking French. English, mon amour. English.” He only pretends to fuss at Maman. I know this because after he scolds her he always does this winky thing with his eyes and Maman smiles at him.
I can hardly wait for the carnival. It’s only here for two days and my best friend, Michelle, is going. Her parents are taking her today too. I hope I will get to see her there. “How much longer, Maman?” I know I asked only a minute ago but I am too excited to wait much longer.
“Josephine, de quelques minutes.” I know I should not whine. Papa says I am too old now to whine like a little kid. He says a nine year old girl has no business acting like a baby. But I can’t help it. I want to be there already. The rides have long lines and it will take forever to take a turn on all of them.
“Maman, how many minutes is a few?” Papa is looking at me in the mirror and I know he is telling me to stop whining. I smile at him. It always makes him happy when I smile. He does the winky thing with his eyes and I know I am not in any trouble. Papa is talking to Maman about grown up stuff. I am not listening. It’s too boring. Papa said a swear word and I know something is wrong.
“Papa!” He isn’t answering me.
I hurt all over. “Maman!” I’m crying now. This hurts so bad and I’m scared. Maman and Papa aren’t saying anything.
Are they hurt?
“Help! Someone help us!” I hope someone hears me screaming. I am stuck in the backseat. I am trying to get free, but my leg hurts so bad I am scared to move it again. “Help!” I still don’t hear anything from Maman and Papa in the front seat. I feel something warm on my leg. I look down. “Please!” I am really scared now. There is blood all over the car. I just looked up and there is blood coming from Maman’s head. Papa is slumped in front of me and I still can’t see him. I am stuck behind his seat. Our new car is ruined. It is all crumpled like one of the empty soda cans I always smash. I hear something. I try to stop crying so I can hear better.
“Oh God. Oh God. I’m so sorry. Oh, God.” It’s a man. No he is a boy. Maybe he is just a big boy. High school. Yeah, definitely a high school boy.
“Please, help me!” I cry to him. I hope he gets me out of here without hurting me too much. Maman needs help. Her head is bleeding a lot. I don’t think its okay for her to bleed that much.
“I’ve got you. C’mon. Dad, get them out of the front. GO!” This boy is crazy. He just screamed at his dad. I would never talk to my mom and dad like that. I’d be grounded for a month.
The big boy tugged open my door and reaches across to Maman . He picks up her wrist and holds his fingers by her pretty watch. Why is he doing that? He sets her hand back in her lap and drags me out of the back seat. It stinks in the street. It smells like something burning and gas.