Finding Kennedy

Prologue-Then

Kennedy

Prologue-Then

    "Hey mom, I'm sorry for calling so late."

    "It's alright sweetie. Is everything okay?" My mom's voice travels through my phone in a new wave of panic.

    I laugh. "Yes. Everything is fine. I just had a few too many to drink and was hoping that you and dad can pick me up? I just don't want to stay at the party anymore.

    "Oh Ken, of course! Give us about ten minutes and we will be out there for you."

    "Thanks mom, I love you."

    "I love you more Kennedy."

    I hang up my phone and walk back into the house where the music is blasting, and search for my friend Heather. The smell of sweat and beer wafts in my nose as I duck and weave between bodies. Finally I catch a glimpse of fire engine red hair and I walk towards her on the dance floor.

    "Hannah!" I scream to get her attention.

    Hannah turns, her hair cascading down her back, some sticking to the sides of her face from sweating, hazel eyes glossed over from drinking.

    "Ken!" She stumbles to me, hugging me loosely. "I miss you girly!"

    I laugh.

    "I was only gone for a minute."

    She gasps. "A minute too long! Come, I want you to meet someone."

    She tugs on my hand but I pull away.

    "No babes. I called my parents. They're coming to pick me up. I just wanted to let you know I'm leaving so you don't go looking for me later."

    Hannah pouts and I pinch the bottom of her lip while laughing. She laughs too.

    "Okay fine. But let me know when you're home okay? Love you, bish."

    I hug her again and nod.

    "Love you too, bish."

    I'm standing on the porch checking my phone with blurry vision, seeing the time. I must be more drunk than I thought. I called my mom a while ago, and she said 10 minutes, so why have 30 minutes gone by with no response?

    I quickly dial my mom's number but it goes to voicemail.

Call again.

Same result.

That's not like my mom. I type in my dad's number.

Voicemail.

    What the actual shit is going on?!

    I look at the time, 10:48 pm. It's not cold out, I can just walk home. My parents probably fell back to sleep.

Yeah, that's what happened, because my parents never miss a call from me.

    Ever.

    Trudging down the road, I still try to call my mom. Nagging feelings hit my gut that something isn't right. I'm looking down at my phone about to dial my mom once again as I'm rounding the corner, but I pause when I see red and blue lights flashing.

    I look up, squinting at the harshness of the lights in the night, shading my eyes with my hand. The closer I get to lights, the more my eyes focus on what's going on. Three cop cars are gathered near an ambulance behind two vehicles that look mangled together. Steam rolls off the cars, both smashed in, head to head collision. The car facing forward, clearly in the wrong, considering they are facing the wrong side of the road. The car as black as night, but you can tell that it was speeding just by the impact.

    I falter in my steps and gasp.   

    No.

    NO!

    This cannot be happening. This isn't real!

    The car mangled in with the other is not a red Challenger. There is no way that that car has the same license plate that sits in my parents driveway. It's not possible that it's my parents. It's just not!

    Before I can think I'm running towards the cars. My feet stumble forward as I try to confirm that I really am just too drunk and I'm seeing things. A police officer halts me by gripping my arms holding me back from the scene.

    "Let me go! I have to see! I have to make sure!"

    I'm struggling to get out of this man's hold, thrashing my body every which way I can but it's no use, he's too strong for my drunken state.

    "Miss, I need you to step back. We're trying to take care of the people involved."

    "My parents." I choke out. "I think that's my parents."

    His eyes soften in remorse and I start sobbing. My knees give out and suddenly both me and the officer are kneeling on the ground. He pats my back, rubbing circles every moment or so.

    "What's your name miss?" The officer asks softly.

    I sniffle.

    "Kennedy. My name is Kennedy Asher."

    I look up to see sympathy in the man's eyes and that only makes me cry more. This can't be happening, it has to be all just a bad dream.

    "Linc, you okay over here?"

    The officer holding me clears his throat. "Sir, this is Kennedy." He pauses and I look into his saddened eyes. "Next of kin to the deceased." He whispers.

    The other officer doesn't say anything for a moment, but I hear it in the silence.

    Next of kin to the deceased.

    That is a 1970 red Challenger.

    That is the license plate that sits in the driveway of my parents house.

    Those are my parents.

    Next of kin to the deceased.

    I don't remember anything more than a gut wrenching wail from my chest right before I pass out, darkness consuming me.