A Peek Inside My Book
"Finding Hope in Hell"
Holding the Hope
The dream came in three colours, white, black and smoky grey. White for the colour of the car lights staring down at the slippery road. Black for the colour of the Toyota SUV, and the smoky grey for the colour of the uncontrollable fog that surrounded the vehicle and its passengers. Driving so cautiously along what appeared to be nowhere, the only things that were visible were the steep road the lights were shining, and the automatic windscreen wipers trying its hardest to get rid of fog. Then a loud horn suddenly emerged from behind the passenger’s car. Their hands involuntarily placed over their ears and the youngest passenger squeezed his eyes, hoping to make the noise stop. It didn’t.
The impact of a four tonne truck struck towards the back of the car had the force of a nuclear bomb. It ripped off the trunk door and sent the back passenger seats flying through the widescreen. It shattered the windows and tore the engine like it was no stronger than a spider web. It ignited the gas tank that tiny flames lit up along the surface of the road. Then everything went quiet, the car radio began buzzing like it was trying to spit something out, crackling sounds of the flames grew smaller and smaller, until you could no longer hear it. It was then that I realised it wasn’t a dream. It was a memory.
I woke up with sweat dripping down my neck. I opened my eyes and saw that the curtains were wide opened, the sun gazing down and I had to turn my eyes away from the luminous light. I pressed my hands against my face, and exhaled deeply. Every night, I’d been having the same memory in my dreams – the one with the accident.
There was a knock on the door, and Gran slid her head between the gaps. When she saw me, she smiled, ‘Good morning Nadia,’ her sweet, soft voice reminded me of my mum. Gran was in her late 60’s, she had short, grey hair just below the ears. She and Gramps lived on the west side of Montana, but when they heard about the accident, they decided to move to my family’s house.
‘Good morning Gran,’ I said back, letting a small smile slid from my mouth.
‘You should get ready. It’s the last day before school starts. You want to make the most of it,’ she said.
The last day before school starts. I was actually relieved that I only had to survive one more day of the winter break. I was sick of letting all the painful memories consume me while staying at home.
I’ve been living with my grandparents since the accident, which was almost a month ago. It happened during the coldest weeks in the Navarino Hills in Wisconsin. My little brother Cole wanted to go skiing on the hills and my parents agreed. We packed our ski gear and were all excited about the trip. We had been on the road for only forty-five minutes when it happened........ READ MORE
Every Purchase Will Help
My invitation is for you to join in my quest by investing only $17 to purchase your copy of "Finding Hope in Hell".
“Finding Hope in Hell” not only will provide you with an enjoyable read, bursting at the seams with thought provoking emotion, but the stories will act to inspire you and your family to achieve your own dreams and goals.
Your purchase will also be providing the most amazing assistance you could possibly imagine.
You will be helping me to achieve my goals and dream of raising in excess of $6000 to provide aid for children living in poverty.
PLEASE HELP .... as every sale of “Finding Hope from Hell” will contribute towards my fundraising goal!
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