(I started writing this story a while ago but I can’t figure out how to word what happens next so if you have any suggestions I am all ears)

When I was younger something happened that changed my life forever. It all began with my parents driving me home from my karate class. I was listening to music in the back seat of our Sedan when it happened. A black truck was heading straight towards us!

I swung backwards as the two vehicles collided with a sickening crunch. The windshield exploded on impact sending hundreds of shards across the car. I the midst of my panic I shoved the car door open and jumped out. Taking out my phone I dialed 911. When I hung up the phone I looked around with a shiver. It was a dark, cold night, the only light came from the moon above me.

Within the dark haze, I could make out a figure laying on the ground. I gasped rushing towards the figures side. The figure was a boy. He looked around my age. His breathing was shallow, and his arms and side were bleeding, but other than that he seemed okay.

I sat right next to him. The boy groaned. He opened his eyes and looked around before he slowly sat up. As he did I heard the screech of multiple sirens.

(Again how should I continue this story? I know that both the girls parents are either dead, or severely injured, so she has to have a foster family. Who happens to be the boys family, so it’s very awkward. But I don’t know how to write it. So any ideas or suggestions would help a lot)