A little too Late | Teen Ink

A little too Late

October 3, 2010
By cherryxpie BRONZE, Edsiom, New York
cherryxpie BRONZE, Edsiom, New York
1 article 0 photos 0 comments

The sun pierced through Veronica’s skin. The bee’s buzzed around her, waiting to sting. The aroma of sweat and cheese doodles surrounded her as she scrunched her nose. Veronica scrounged through her Prada bag in search of her Dolce Cabaña’s as she waited for her chauffeur to pick her up from school.
Just as the chauffeur arrived, she saw them. Her friends. Well, ex-friends to be exact. She couldn’t believe how normal they acted. Going to parties, gossiping, and constantly changing boyfriends as though nothing happened. But something did happen. Something horrible. Something that changed everything. FOREVER. It happened exactly one year ago. On prom night…
Honk! Honk! Her impatient chauffeur, who parked the family’s limo on the other side of the parking lot, interrupted Veronica’s thoughts. Veronica finger-combed her jet-black, shoulder length hair as she speed-walked to the vehicle, dodging as many people as she possibly could. She opened the back door, jumped in and rolled up the tinted window. As she looked out the window, at all the happy kids, she wondered, “Will I ever be myself ever again?”
Ever since prom night and the incident, Veronica wasn’t herself. She had quit the cheerleading squad, ignored all her friends, moped around all day, stopped hosting parties, and most off all, hated all things pink. This was defiantly not normal, especially for the most popular girl at school. Instead of happiness, Veronica was filled with pain and fear. She knew she would have to pay for her mistake, but she didn’t want to.
“Miss. Veronica, your residence has arrived,” the chauffeur announced as he pointed towards the house.
“Thank You,” she replied as she made her way towards the back door of her three-story mansion. Sure she was rich, but she wasn’t a stereotypical snobby, stuck-up girl. Especially not now. Veronica walked past the freshly, cut grass, towards the elaborately decorated door.
Suddenly, she stopped dead in her tracks. The back door was open. “No one is at home, so why is the back door open?” she thought out loud. Her usually paranoid brain, surprisingly, urged her to go inside. Veronica hesitated as she felt her heels sink deeper through the mud.
“Everything will be fine, just go in,” her brain reassured her. Veronica took two cautious steps as her heart throbbed with fear and entered into her kitchen. “Everything is fine,” she spoke as her heart reduced its beating rate. Veronica felt her muscles relax as she walked to the marble counter and grabbed a coffee mug.
“We meet again,” a voice stated. Veronica’s head whipped around. She took a quick glance at the face and dropped her mug.
“AHHH,” she shrieked as the small pieces of the green mug shattered across the tiled kitchen floor. She reached for her arm and continuously pinched herself, hoping the wake up from the nightmare, but she wasn’t dreaming. Her heart started to race a mile per minute and her face turned deep red. “What…are…you doing here? I…didn’t I…kill…. you?” she stuttered as burning hot tears ran down her cheek.
The man just grinned. Not the school-picture-kind of grin, but the crazy- psycho grin. The man stood there, with blond, uncombed hair and icy blue eyes. He wore a gray, smelly t-shirt, under a gray knee-length hoodie. He had on faded denim jeans and worn out sneakers. “You remember me,” he whispered as he took a step towards Veronica.
The memories she tried to keep out for so long came back. The after prom party, the alcohol, the late night drive home, the man her friends and her ran over, and the quick U-turn they took back, leaving the man to die. She always knew that she should have gone back to check if he was okay. She always knew that he didn’t die. She always knew that he would come back for her. She was right.
Like always.
“You run over me and you don’t even bother to see if I’m okay! You selfish, little, snobby, rich girl! Do you even have a heart?” he screamed as he pulled out a knife.
“I am truly, very sorry,” Veronica squeaked.” Please, don’t hurt me, please!”
“It’s too late for that,” he replied at he brought the knife towards Veronica’s neck.
The chauffer was getting ready to leave, when he heard a scream come from inside the house. He rushed inside and found his boss’s daughter on the floor surrounded by a pool of dark, red blood.
And green pieces of glass.



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