Mira looked out the back window of the taxi, watching the buildings and other cars fly by.

"Hey, Mira."

The eleven year old turned to face her twin sister, sitting in the middle seat next to another passenger. "What's up, Mora?"

Mora Morrison grinned, adjusting herself in her seat, with no seat belt to hinder her movement. "Let's play rock paper scissors to decide who gets to be lead guitar in our band."

Mira shook her head. "No way, man, I already beat you for that like three times!"

"It was only twice! Best three out of five!"

"You're dumb, Mora." Mira would always regret telling her sister that.



Without warning, another car slammed into them. Mira felt a sharp pain in her left arm and blacked out. When she came to, all she saw was blood. When she could see more than that, it was what she couldn't see that alarmed her most.

"Mora? Mora!" She called out to no response - her sister was gone. The driver was down, and the other passenger was unconscious. She looked to the driver, and saw the windshield was shattered. A form lay motionless in a pool of blood a few feet in front of the taxi.

Mora.

Mira tried to open the door with her left hand and found that she couldn't. Looking down at her arm, her eyes widened. Her arm was broken, and the bone was jutting out at an awful angle. Ahhh. Ahhhhhhhhhh. Her breathing grew shallow as what had happened set in. The realization was followed by immense pain, and she screamed. She screamed until her throat was raw. Fumbling weakly with the handle using her right hand, she got out of the taxi, spots filling her vision. She stepped over to Mora's body and sank to her knees, her left hand splashing limply in the pool of blood.

Mora was gone, and the last thing Mira had done was insult her. She didn't say something nice, she didn't tell the girl she loved her. She just called her dumb. What kind of awful person was she? As tears welled in her eyes, she blacked out again.