• Mariah, 13, sat in the backseat of her parent's old red car. She had a knee on the back of her mother's passenger seat, and her arms folded in her lap. Her short black hair rested it's tip on her shoulders. She stared out the window, a faraway expresstion upon her face.
    They were on a cliff road, over looking the ocean. The strip of dirt was just enough for two cars to pass cleanly. The heart beat of the ocean's waves never died.
    Tires squealed. The wheel was thrown in attempt to escape. An oncoming car, out of control, slammed into the side of the car. Mariah screamed, being thrown aside and into the door. Her father tried his best to bring his family to safty, but it was in vain. The car crashed into the guardrail, the other car hitting the cliff wall, then lurching forward again. This time the guardrail couldn't withstand the force, breaking and sending Mariah and her family down towards the raging waters.
    In a frenzy, Mariah's mother unbuckled her child. Hoping it would save her, she opened the door of the car, and after whispering an 'I love you,' forced her out. Mariah's father clutched the wheel in panic. The car exploded moments before it hit the water, sending Mariah flying away, and into the ocean. She woke hours later in a hospital bed, with people crying all around her.
    That was the last memory Mariah had of her parents. And ever since, she's trudged through live, searching silently for a way to get rid of the grief.