Horror Short Story: The Accident In this horror short story, a man tries to cope with what he has done. Written by: Reddit user Minnboy Halverson sat in his dark living room. He hadn’t moved for over an hour. The accident earlier that evening kept playing over and over in his mind. The light turned red, but he was in a hurry and accelerated. An orange blur came from his right and in a split second there was a violent jolt, then the bicyclist rolled across his hood and fell out of sight on the pavement. Horns blared angrily and he panicked, stepping on the gas and screeching away from the chaos into the darkness, shaken and keeping an eye on his rearview mirror until he got home. Why did you run, you fool? He’d never committed a crime before this and punished himself by imagining years in jail, his career gone, his family gone, his future gone. Why not just go to the police right now? Then someone tapped on the front door and his world suddenly crumbled away beneath him. They found me. There was nothing he could do but answer it. Running would only make matters worse. Trembling, he got up, went to the door and opened it. A police officer stood under the porch light. “Mr. Halverson?” asked the grim officer. He let out a defeated sigh. “Yes. Let me —”I am terribly sorry, but I’m afraid I have some bad news. Your son’s bike was struck by a hit and run driver this evening. He died at the scene. I’m very sorry for your loss.

𝖠𝖣𝖠𝖯𝖳𝖠𝖡𝖫𝖤 𝖥𝖠𝖬𝖨𝖫𝖸 (𝖡𝗒 𝖭𝖾𝗎𝗋𝗈𝖥𝖺𝖻𝗎𝗅𝗈𝗎𝗌) Pt. 17 Chip feels helpless, his hands trembling as he tries to think of something, anything, to make it better. "What do we do?" He asks, his voice shaky. Karen's voice is steady. "Just wait it out," she instructs him. "It'll pass." The seizure seems to last forever, but in reality it's only minutes. Chip watches, his heart in his throat, his mind racing. He's seen this before, but it never gets easier. The way Plankton's body contorts, the fear in his eye right before it rolls back, the helplessness of it all. As the convulsions start to slow, Plankton's antennae finally still. His body relaxes, but his mind is still far away, lost in the nonsensical state that follows a seizure. "Chip, get our stuff and we'll help your dad to the car." Karen says, ready to head back home. Chip nods, his hands shaking as he quickly gathers their belongings. His mind is racing with concern for his dad, his heart aching at the sight of him still and silent on the bed. The science fair feels like a distant memory. He carefully picks up his trophy, his ribbon crinkling under his fingertips. The pride he once felt for his accomplishment now seemed so trivial compared to the overwhelming love and fear that filled him for Plankton, who finally opened his eye. Plankton's pupil was wide, unfocused, his antennae still. Chip's heart pounds in his chest, his mind racing. What has he done? "Dad?" Plankton doesn't react. Karen helps him up to his feet. "Hey there, Planky-Poo; let's get ourselves home!" Karen says to him. He simply blinks. "Wok?" Plankton's voice is slurred, his usual sharpness blunted by the postictal phase. He looks around the hotel room with confusion. "Wok," he repeats, as if trying to convince his own brain. Chip and Karen exchange a look full of their silent understanding as Karen leads them to the car, buckling Plankton in. After Chip puts everything in the trunk, he sits by his dad as Karen starts the engine. Plankton's eye is glassy, his antennae barely moving. He's in his own world. "We're all going home," Chip says, his voice calm. But Plankton's attention is elsewhere, his brain still reeling from the seizure. "Gwed?" He says. Karen nods. "Yes, we're going home," she answers, her voice soothing. "Everything's ok." Plankton's head lolls against the window, his antennas drooping. The world outside the car is a blur of colors and shapes, not yet making sense. "Yeh was’at?" Plankton said. Chip looks at him. "You had a seizure," he says softly. "It's okay. We're going ho-" But Plankton interrupts, his voice slurred and distant. "Wh-wha' 'bout science fair?" He slurs. "Did I... did I win?" His antennae twitch slightly, trying to remember. Karen sighs, her hands on the stearing wheel. "It's like he's drunk," she explains to Chip. "But it's his brain trying to recover." Chip nods, his eyes never leaving his dad's face. "You were so proud, Dad," he says, hopeful. But Plankton just blinks, his gaze unfocused. "S'not fair," Plankton says, his voice still slurred. "I wan' be proud too." He's clearly trying to piece together the shattered bits of his memory. Karen looks at Plankton in the rearview mirror, her eyes filled with love and concern. "You were proud, hon," she says. But Plankton's brain isn't cooperating. "I wan' to be a thor," he slurs, his words jumbled. Chip looks at him, his heart heavy with sympathy. "You're my hero, Dad," he says, his voice earnest. "You always will be." Karen's eyes brim with tears as she hears Chip. "That's right," she says, her voice shaky. "You're our big strong hero." She swipes at her eyes, fighting the emotion that threatens to spill over. Plankton's head bobs slightly, his eye still unfocused. "Thas... that's nice," he says. The car's motion lulls him closer to sleep, but he fights to stay awake. "Wanna see me win," he mumbles, his words slurred. Chip nods, his throat tight. "I know, Dad," he says. "You'll see it when you're feeling better." Plankton's antennae twitch again, his eye blinking slowly. "Win," he repeats, his voice softer. He blinks, his mind trying to grasp the concept. "W-w-win," he stammers. His body feels so heavy. The car ride continues, the hum of the tires against the road lulling Plankton closer to sleep. His head nods slightly with each bump in the road, his antennae drooping more with every mile. Chip watches him carefully, his heart breaking at his father's vulnerable state, for Plankton's mouth was now slightly open, his head leaning on the car door window. "Dad?" Chip says, his voice quiet. Plankton doesn't respond, his breathing evening out. "Dad?" He tries again, but there's no reaction. He looks at Karen. Her eyes are on the road, but she nods. "He's asleep, Chip," she whispers. "It's his brain's way of recovering." "Dad?" Chip says softly. No response. "Dad, are you okay?" Plankton's antennae twitch slightly, his eye still closed. His breaths are deep and even, his body completely relaxed against the car seat. "Dad, wake up," Chip whispers. "Wake up, Dad," Chip says again, his hand gently shaking his father's shoulder. But Plankton's snores are the only response, his antennae quivering with each inhale and exhale. The car's soft rocking and the steady hum of the engine have lulled him into a deep, much- needed sleep. Chip's hand lingers on his dad's shoulder, his eyes scanning his father's peaceful face. He can't help but feel a twinge of sadness, his mind replaying the confusion and fear from the seizure. But he also feels relief, knowing that Plankton is safe, that they're going home.