A year later

Kayla POV


I walked to my house, practically dragging my bare feet on the ground. My pair heels were in my left hand while my right was on my forehead.

I was completely wasted and couldn't even think straight. I was freaking surprised that I even found my way home.

"Shit" I muttered as I stumbled my way through the steps leading to the front door of my house.

I brought my keys out of my pocket and slotted it through the keyhole.

I opened up the door and to my surprise I saw my mom and dad waiting in the family room in their nightgowns.

" Makayla Jacqueline Evans." My mother roared at the top of her lungs.

"Where are you coming from at this time of the night again, Kayla?" My father added calmly.

"John, why are you speaking so calmly to this wayward child." My mother commented.

A small giggle escaped from my lips.

You know, it is so funny to have parents that are from two completely different sides of the world.

While my mother is busy displaying her black attitude by twisting her head and pointing her finger all around, my fathers pale face is turning extremely pink.

I must say I'm very lucky to be mixed; you can't get good comedy like this anywhere else.

"And just look at the child, she is laughing at us." My mom cut off my thought.

"You know what Makayla, your mother and I have decided that the life style you've been living for the past year is completely unacceptable. All the partying and the drinking. We feel it best if you go and live with your aunt in California in order to have a change of environment and maybe start over." My father said.

All of a sudden I stopped giggling.

I hadn't been listening to a word they had said since I came back, but once my dad utter those words, my brain did a 360 and snapped back into reality.

"What?" I said between chokes. "You have got to be kidding me."

"I'm afraid not honey," my dad said.

"You can't do this to me!" I said, fighting back tears. "I won't go. My friends are here. My family is here. My life is here. I can't go. I wont go." And with that I made a dash for the door.

I ran down the street and I didn't stop until I had reached the cemetery behind the church.

I walked towards the head stone which read 'our beloved Son and friend Marcus Gomez."

I knelt down in front of the grave and started to weep uncontrollably.

"You did this to me. You made me like this. You are the reason why I am so wayward and take joy in partying. You are the reason why I can't be good." I shouted at the grave.

"Why, Marcus." I wept. "Why did you leave me when you were the only reason why I got up in the morning. I miss you so much." I wept harder

"Now they are making me go and I can't leave you." I said. " I love you."

" We should have both died, or I should have gone. Not you." I slumped back, lying down beside the grave.

*Flash back*

I could still remember like it was yesterday when I had woken up to find my self lying in a hospital bed with a band aid around my head, a neck brace and casts on my leg and hand.

Immediately I had opened my eyes, my mom was at my side asking me a ton of questions about how I was feeling.

But there was only one question on my mind.

"Where is Marcus?" I asked filled with fear of the 'What Ifs'.

My mom abruptly stopped midway through one of her questions.

I could tell some thing was wrong by the look on her face.

I opened my eyes wide and held my breath, waiting for an answer.

"He's gone." She answered.
" What do you mean that he's gone?" I asked sharply. Tears where already welling up in my eyes.

The pain in my chest was worse than the pain on any other part of my body upon the many other bruises and broken bones I had.

"He died honey." My mom said, her own tears spilling over.

"The drunk driver ran directly into his side of the car and the impact killed him immediately. You're very luck you survived." She added.

"How can you say I'm lucky." I choked.

" He is dead and I am not. So what is the point of me living." I said. I stared ripping of the Ivs, needles and wires. I then turned into my pillow and let out the loudest shriek of my life.

My mom called for the doctor and they fixed me back up, sometimes I wished she hadn't.

*End of flash back*


I switched on my ipod and played "like a pill" by pink

The lyrics of the song sank into me so deep that it only made me cry harder.

It was like the song was speaking to me.