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 |  Enter your story of 300 words or less. |
| Her mother helped dress her. Tiffany had been so excited when she'd picked out this gown. It was coral with a gold braided belt and her first "grown up" dress but still modest enough for an innocent young lady's Sweet Sixteen. "This is the one! It's my favorite color!" she'd exclaimed after trying it on. "You're right, it looks amazing with your tan skin and your blue eyes," her mother replied. They'd spent the remainder of the day shopping for shoes and accessories. It was a day that a mother could never forget. Now, here she sat, bone tired and so many more things to do. Family and friends would be stopping by tomorrow. There was no time to rest. Besides, keeping busy was the best thing for her. So much had happened in the two days since. It seemed like a lifetime ago that she had insisted that Tiffany make a quick trip to the store. Tiffany told me how tired she was and I didn't listen. I insisted she go, that I didn't have the time. If only I could take it back. So many memories flashed through her mind while a headache relentlessly bored like a drill into her skull. Tiffany didn't want to go to the store. It was too late and she was tired. I yelled at her. I told that everything I was doing was for her party and that she needed to help. Why did I do that? If I had just listened to her, I would be helping her get ready for her party. Tiffany never had a chance when the drunk driver hit her head-on. Now a grieving mother was planning her daughter's funeral. |
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