Shannon

A teenage girl is about to make the biggest mistake in her life. But when she accidentally hits a stranger with her car, she is forced to realize the potential consequences of her actions.

        

Shannon rolled her eyes at the bathroom mirror as she applied the finishing touches of her makeup. Her parents were always so restricting. They never respected her or the choices she made, but now they wouldn't have a choice. I'll show them! She quickly inspected herself before grabbing her purse and heading down the stairs to her car.

“Shannon, where are you going?” her mother called out after her still half asleep.

“Out!” she shouted, slamming the front door. She went to the driver's side of her car and got in, then grabbed a bulletin and turned it to the back where it listed an address. “Two five seven, Cherry Street. All right then.” Then she started the engine and pulled out the driveway.

It was still dark out; the sun's rays just beginning to peek over the horizon. Shannon made a turn at an intersection before merging onto an highway. She drove only a few miles before taking an exit. Ten more minutes until I get there.

Just as she was about to turn onto Cherry Street, a figure dashed in front of her car. She slammed on the brakes , but the thud that followed sickened her.

No! No! She leaped out of her car and ran to where the man lay, unconscious. “No!” She bent over him and felt for a pulse.

He was still alive.

Frantically, Shannon grabbed her cell phone and dialed 911. Paramedics arrived in a matter of minutes and took him to the nearest hospital. Police came on the scene just seconds after the paramedics and interrogated Shannon about what had happened.

Shakily, she managed to answer their questions and a few minutes, Shannon followed behind the ambulance in her car with the police following after her. Her entire body was shaking. What if he died of his injuries? What if he had a huge medical bill? No, he would have one! What was she going to do?

“God, help me!” she whispered, before realizing she'd just said a prayer. What am I doing? God doesn't exist!

 

***

 

As Shannon paced back and forth in the waiting room, she kept biting her lip, hoping that this guy would be all right.

Finally a doctor came to see her, followed by two policemen. “He'll be fine,” he assured her. “He has several fractures, but none of them are life threatening.”

“We've spoken with him and he would like to speak with you,” one of the policeman said, “before he decides whether to press charges or not.”

Shannon gulped, and nodded. “Of course.” She strolled down the hallway and tentatively pushed open the door to his room. “Hello?”

“Hey, come on in,” the man invited. “I'm David Steel. What's your name?”

She placed her hands in her back jean pockets. “Shannon Welby.”

“And how old are you?”

“Nineteen.”

“Yeah, I figured you'd be around that age. How are you?”

“How am I?” She glanced at him strangely. “What kind of a question is that? You're the one all bandaged and bruised up, no thanks to me!”

David shrugged. “Well isn't it a bit strange for you to be driving around this early in the morning, especially in that area of the neighborhood?”

Shannon grew defensive and crossed her arms. “I don't know what you mean.”

“I think you do. Tell me, Shannon, when you leave here, do you still intend to go there?”

“It's none of your business what I do.”

“Considering that you almost took a life, I'm so surprised you're willing to take another.”

Oh great! Another nut! “Save it. I'm a big girl, I can make my own choices.”

“Oh yeah? Well I'll only agree to not press charges on one condition.”

Shannon scoffed. “I'm not going to change my mind, Mr. Steel!”

“I want you to have an ultrasound.”

“An ultrasound? That's it? I have an ultrasound--”

“--this morning before you go anywhere else,” David interrupted. “I'm a doctor myself and I know the doctor who works here. I can get you in without an appointment.”

Shannon hesitated. “And you won't press any charges?”

“Right.”

She sighed and tossed up her arms in defeat. “Okay. I'll do it.”

 

***

 

As the nurse applied the gel on her stomach and started scanning her, Shannon fidgeted uncomfortably, waiting for this to be over. Even though she knew she was getting off easy – she sure was getting the better end of the bargain -- she felt like it was a waste of time.

“Would you like to take a look?” the nurse asked.

Shannon shook her head. “No.”

“I think you should, Ms. Welby. It won't hurt for you just to look.”

Shannon shrugged her shoulders. “All right... I suppose.”

The nurse titled the screen and Shannon's mouth dropped open in wonder. “That.... that isn't just a blob of flesh.” Her face turned ash white. “Oh my word, you can actually make out the head and...” She choked back sobs as the reality of what she had been about to do hit her.

Her parents were right after all.

 

***

 

Shannon hurried as fast as she could to get back to David's room. “You were right,” she blurted. “You were right.” She struggled to control herself as tears started streaming down her face. “Thank you, David! Oh thank you!”

“You're welcome.”

“It might seem a bit mean to say this,” she said, sniffling, “but I'm sort of glad I hit you with my car.”

“Well I suppose God had a good reason for letting that happen.”

Shannon gave him a smile. “Yeah. I have to go now. I need to speak with my parents... they don't know anything about this... but I'll come back and visit, okay?”

David nodded in understanding.

Half an hour later, Shannon climbed out of her car and slowly made her way up to the house, where both of her parents sat in the kitchen drinking coffee. “Mom, Dad, there's something I need to tell you...”

Author's Note

I need some advice on how to polish this more.

Reviews

[SRMarx]

This is an interesting story. I think you have an engaging idea. i'd work on developing Shannon more. I barely got to know her as a character and so it was hard to empathize with her or care what happened to her.

[by S.D.]

I like it.
In times of stress or anxiety (unless things are just exploding in form of an angry monologue) People seem to be laconic in the way they talk. I think you did that.
Um, polishing? You could try stripping it down to bare minimum and then fleshing it back out, if you're not liking the way it sounds.
S.D.