It was 11:03 PM when I recieved the phone call. It was a really cold December day, and it was actually snowing to prove it. I groggily opened my eyes that night, reaching for the phone reciever.
“Hello?”
I heard Jeff’s mom and dad crying in the background.
“Sharon?” Said Jeff’s older brother, Andrew. Suddenly I felt my heart beating faster and faster – even though it’s bad to expect the worse, the tears from the parents had to mean something.
“Andy, what’s wrong?” I asked while I got out of bed and opened the shades. The night was pitch black, with large pieces of flaky snow falling down from the skies. Even though the scene was peaceful, I knew, just knew, that something bad was about to hit.
“Sharon, you have to calm down, and promise me you won’t do anything drastic,”
No response from me.
“Sharon?”
I mustered up all my strength and answered.
“Yeah?”
There was a pause.
“There was a huge car crash on I-95…Jeff’s dead.”