Tears On A Crosswalk (Mark's Terror)

Time stood still. I couldn't move but my knees shook. I was barely standing on the sidewalk. The cars kept hustling by. The lights bathed the quiet suburb. But I didn't hear a sound.There, lying in front of me, was the body of my best friend. There, in front of me, was Mark. Mark, who had been like a brother to me. He had been the prankster. He was a jock but no one but me knew how nerdy he really was. I remember how he had been so happy when he got his scholarship to UCLA. He had even cried.



I knew him since we were five; we had met in Kindergarten. It was playtime and I was sitting by myself playing. No one wanted to play with me because they had all thought I was too weird. I pretended I didn't mind until I actually started believing that it was okay. But one day we had a new student. His name was Mark Lombard. He had moved from Virginia to here in Maryland because his mom had had a job offer. That was before things got hard for him;that was before his mom became a crack fiend. But at the time I didn't pay him any mind. When play time arrived I went to my usual corner to play. He came up to me and simply said, “Hi. My name's Mark. What's yours?” His hazel eyes looked so sincere that I couldn't help but smile and reply. That was how we became best friends.



Remembering all that brought tears to my eyes. It was impossible that he could be lying motionless on the ground like this. Unable to support myself any longer, I fell to my knees. He had always been the strong one. He had always been there for me. I wouldn't even have survived High School if it weren't for him. So why was it that he had died? Why not me? I could barely play football; I was a second string right defense. I was a nerd but was too lazy to get good grades. But Mark had never cared; he was always there for me.



Me? I had a decent life, but not him. His dad had walked out on him the minute he was born. His mom? His mom was a crack fiend, too busy being high to care. He worked his butt off to get where he was and now it was all ruined. No one really knew him like I did. He had no brothers or sisters to call his own. He always pretended to be happy for others but he could never hide from me who he really was. Mark was Mark. No matter how hard you tried you'd never really be able to accurately describe him. In the end, I realized I barely knew him. He had told me that he'd go on the football scholarship but that was just an excuse to get into college.



He had wanted to be an author, what a loser. I didn't even know what I was going to do in college but he already had everything planned.. It was because of me he had died. It all happened so fast. We had been walking home from a party. It was Saturday night and we were going to have the time of our lives this summer before we left for college. We were talking on our way home. We reached the crosswalk where I accidentally dropped my wallet, an innocent mistake. It was dark so I told him to go on ahead, I'd catch up. I saw a blinding light. I heard tires screeching. And suddenly he had been slung to the side by a car. I rushed to him while calling for help. The driver only kept going. It was then that I saw his body. Covered in blood. He lay breathless in front of me. But there was the one thing that disturbed me the most. I gently picked up Mark's body in my arms and as tears began to fall I noticed that he had a shocked look on his face. A look of terror.