I believe in many things, but most of all I believe that life is not fair. I will never remember my birthday the same after 2008. No longer will it be the happy summer day it used to. From now on it will be a day of misery and mourning. I was born August 9, 1994; August 9, 2008 was the day Zachary Foster died.
The day started off the same it had on any of my birthdays. I woke up excited to be a year older, happy that I was now fourteen and could get my permit. The day changed when I watched my dad hang up the phone and put his face in his hands. August 9, 2008 was the first time I had ever seen my dad cry.
In shock, I did not know whether I should leave him alone, or ask what was wrong and try to comfort him. Lost, I made an extremely tough decision, but I regret asking that short three letter word “why?” The only things that I saw when my dad raised his head were his red cheeks and bloodshot eyes. “Zachary is a dead,” he trembled as he spoke. Instantly tears filled my eyes too. “What happened?” I managed to choke out, not even considering the fact that maybe I didn’t want to know the answer. He shakily explained the whole story to me.
Zachary and his older sister, Brooklyn, were playing out in the yard while Charlie and Amy, their parents, helped Amy’s parents move into their new house. Charlie was on the phone with my grandpa talking about how much they needed to get Zachary and my two year old sister Pyper together one of these days to play. My grandpa knew something had happened when he heard screaming and the phone went dead.
A speeding car had slid around the street corner up into the yard and smashed Zachary’s fragile little body between two cars. The man had jumped out of the car shaking, looked at the dying three year old laying on the ground, and drove away. Luckily the neighbors stopped him. My uncle Charlie tried to give him CPR, but the injuries were fatal, and the procedure worthless. Zachary had died.
I believe that three years old is too young of an age for a child to die. I believe that I hope that I will never see my family like they were that day again, and I believe most that life is not fair. I will forever remember Zachary Foster, he lived a good life the three years he was here, and will always be loved and never forgotten.
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