Another drop of blood slides down my back as I lay immobalized next to my two dead parents. My once carmel waves of hair were now riddled with shardes of glass and soaked with blood. I couldn't feel my legs and in fear of what I might see, I didn't attempt to look down at them. Mom's head was tweeked at an awkward angle and her eyes were open, but lifeless. Dad layed on the dash of the car, his head conpletly covered in blood. All I could do was pray that the paramedics would be here soon. Due to major loss of blood and shock, I could feel the darkness trying to pull me back into unconsciousness, but I faught it with all that I had. I would not sleep in fear that I would never wake up again. Instead, I focused on my breathing. In out. In out. In out. Drip. Another drop of blood. In out. Drip, Drip, Drop. In out. I was just about to give into the darkness when the wailing of sirens drug me back into the painful reality. The next thing I knew, I was being hauled out of the mangled remains of my dad's truck and being set gently onto a stretcher in an ambulence. Then the world began to go foggy and the last thing I remember seeing was my dads slumped over body in that old blue truck.

----6 Months Later----

Terra's P.O.V.

"Terra, wake up it's time to go!" shouted my aunt through the intercom system that ran through the mansion. I groaned and made all of those weird noises everyone makes when they stretch in the morning, and rolled out of bed. My knees and ankles cracked as they began to wake up and remember what their functions were. I walked into the bathroom to see that Marta, the house maid, had already prepared my bath. The perks of having multi billionare aunts and uncles is that they come with a house fit for a king, a barn in equal massiveness full of million dollar horses all at my finger tips. Oh and did I mention Uncle Mike's car collection? He had every car you could imagine from Lamborgenie's to Chargers and basically every other muscle car under the sun. My dad's black 1970 Charger RT was sitting with the rest of Uncle Mike's cars, waiting patiently for the day that I turn 16 and am able to drive it. It also reminds me of the painful fact that my parents are gone forever and that I am very fortunate to be alive. The car is not the only reminder I have of that night. A mangle of scars slash across my back like branches of a tree and one scar that runs from the inside of my elbow to my wrist on my right arm. My hair had doubled in length and now the caramel mess of waves reached the top of my butt. I had also lost a ton of weight becuase of the four months of deep depreassion I went through after the crash. I had been doing better though and, because of helping out with hauling hay for the horses, I had really toned out. I would swim in the mornings in the lake and then run 3 miles. The daily excersize had earned me a six pack, extremely toned arms and thighs and rough hands that no amount of lotion could ever save.

I stepped out of the bath 20 minutes later and tied my hair up into a towel. I then dressed in my faded riding jeans, my boots and a t-shirt that said "Silly boys, trucks are for girls." It was my favorite, a birthday present from my aunt last year. It was faded and looked a little more grey than blue, but I still loved it. I walked back into the bathroom and washed my face, brushed my teeth tied my unruly mop of hair up into a high ponytail, my signature look. Even though it was up in a high pony, my hair still hit the bottom of my back. It was a pain in the butt in the summer when it got hot though. I put on some maskara and chapstick and then assesed myself in the mirror, something I rarely did. I looked a ton like my mom. I had her curly hair and her long slim nose. But I had my dad's height and his steel grey eyes. He used to always tease me that my eyes could see straight through the bull s*** in people. He was totally right. The black mascara set them off and made them see alive and more blue than grey. My stomach groweled obnoxiously and reminded me that I was hungry so I hurried out of my bathroom and attacked my spurs to the back of my boots, grabbed my barn jacket off the chair and sprinted down the stairs.

Everyone was already out and about, Uncle Mike was at a car show and Aunt Clare was out shopping for a new dress for a wedding we all had to attend at the end of the week, and the kitchen was empty. S***, I forgot about that wedding and remembered that I needed to get a dress and heels. I groaned and let out a huge huff. I hated dressing up with a burning passion. Besides, I didn't even know the people. My uncle was friends with Mr. Grier who was friends with some couple who was getting married. I despised the Grier family. Their daughter was adorable and Hayes was sweet, but Nash had always been mean to me. He was the type of guy that liked girls who would give it up easy, wore dresses that showed way too much sking and teetered around on heels that made them 3 times their actual height. Basically he liked girls who were fake and my standards were way higher than anything he could have achieved. Aunt Clare had told me that his best friend Aaron Carpenter was going to be there and that he was a really sweet boy as well. I wouldn't take her word for it though, because she was also the one who told me that Nash was a gentleman. And the worst part was that both Aaron and Nash would be staying in the guest house for the rest of the sumer becuase their parents were going on some business trip together. So looking forward to it... NOT! It is going to be one long summer...