The sun was now declining from its highest point in the sky. Nonetheless, the heat was still staggering. Its blistering rays shone down on the back of Michael's neck. Perspiration began to pool under his jawbone, sliding down the length of his throat. He pulled idly at his uniform shirt's buttoned collar, resisting the urge to pull his tie free and unbutton the front of his shirt.
Michael stood at the corner of his school's parking lot, right at the intersection of two streets, safe on the sidewalk. His black shoes made his feet uncomfortable. His socks did so even worse. With eyes, half closed and straining to see in the dull heat, he stared at passing cars. The red light hit, and a familiar car was first in line to his right.
Catching glimpses, Taylor's shiny hair was dimmed by the car's tinted windows. In the air conditioned car, cool air blew at her, causing her hair to twitch and fly. With sore eyes, caused by the previous crying, Michael turned his full attention to her. He could no longer bear forgetting her face. Soon, he would not remember anything at all.
Time seemed to slow. As Taylor's car began to pull forward at the flash of the green light, Michael strode forward. His legs planted themselves at the very edge of the sidewalk, waiting for the moment when the car would accelerate.
The spirit, watching from the same ledge as before, stared with mischievous eyes. She coiled a hand to rest just under her chin, smiling delightfully as she continued to watch. "We shall achieve such wonders once that boy has joined us: with his devotion to that petty girl, he is bound to be a restless spirit just as I..." A dark laugh resonated from her throat.
His pulse quickened. Its pace grew to the extreme: his chest was pounding. The sound of machine gun fire sounded throughout his body, threatening to shake his very core. Without a second thought, Michael leaped from the curb as the car sped toward him. Thud.
His body ricocheted off the hood of the car, landing on the burning asphalt, rolling sideways. The tumble brought him in the path of another automobile; his body was soon hit a second time. Everything came to a standstill. The cars in the roads killed their engines. Parents and children alike stared in utter confusion. Taylor, who had smiled at Michael as he turned to her, was slamming the door behind her as she ran to his side.
Other parents popped their heads out the of their own cars, cell phones pressed against the side of their face, chatting with the authorities with bewildered expressions. Michael was soon surrounded by a few adults, as well as the weeping Taylor. She held his bruised hand gently, speaking through a hoarse voice.
"Michael!?" she said, unusually loud. "Michael, why... Michael, the pedestrian sign wasn't... Michael..." Her father rushed to her side and held her close. His eyes strayed to the corpse.
Michael's face was untouched. His eyes, wide and lifeless, stared straight into the sky. His arm was bloodied; the bones in his forearm, cracked, jutted out through his dirty skin and through his uniform sweater. One of his legs bent the wrong way. In his unharmed hand, there held a strange object. Taylor examined it as well. She never remembered Michael holding it; all she remembered was a textbook in his hand.
Cradled in bent fingers, there lay a black petaled rose.
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