Forgotten In The Cold Cellar
Language: en
The holidays were over. My parents were packing the SUV, ready to head back to the city for work. My little brother, Beau, had already claimed the front passenger seat, looking like a little king. I wanted to go, too. I needed to go. But no matter how hard I pulled at the door handle, it wouldn’t budge. It was locked tight. As the engine roared to life and the car began to crawl forward, panic seized me. I threw myself in front of the hood, screaming until my throat felt raw. "Why does he get to go? Why not me?" I pounded on the tinted glass, desperate for a glance, a sign. Finally, Mom…