Love, Drugs, and High School

Chapter One

Chapter One

Annabelle

          “Emmett’s dead.” Her voice was shaky and her face was completely and utterly serious.

          “Mom…” I started, my voice too shaky to continue speaking.

          “He died in a car crash.” My uncle spoke up.

          “W-W-Where was h-he?” I said in between sobs.

          “He was on his way to pick you up. He was reading a text message,” my mother added.

          I burst into tears. That was my text message that he was reading. It was my fault that he died. I was the sender of that stupid text!

          Both my mother and uncle were looking at me and I couldn’t take it. I bolted up to my room, collapsing on my bed.

          Sadness and tears overcame me. I should have died. It should have been me not him.

          My mother was knocking at my door, but I wouldn’t go and open it. Why would I want to? All she was going to do was talk to me.

          The door opened, but I didn’t look to see who it was. The bed next to me sank in and I looked up to see my uncle staring down at me.

          “They don’t know who sent the text message, but when they do, I will be sure to tell you,” my uncle reassured me.

          “It was my text message.” I murmured, crying even harder.

          The look on my uncle’s face was shocked, but he continued to talk to me. “It’s not your fault. He chose to read that text. They are still investigating everything but he was dead at the scene. I’m really sorry.” He turned and got up, leaving me alone in my room.

          I didn’t want to talk to anyone. The only person I wanted to talk to was dead. In my head, I imagined Emmett holding me in his arms, telling me that everything was all right. But the reality of everything is that he wasn’t here to comfort me and that everything was ok. I don’t think it would ever be ok.

          My phone started ringing and I answered it, not even looking at the caller ID. “Hello?”

          “Annabelle? Its Emmett’s mother, would you mind stopping over at our house and grabbing your stuff from Emmett’s room?” Her voice was shaky and uncertain. It was obvious she wanted the reminder of me out of her head.

          “Sure, when do you want me over?” I didn’t bother to hide the sadness in my voice. I was just a teenager whose boyfriend died from the text message that I sent him. Now I had to go and get my stuff from his house. This was too much.

          “As soon you can.” It was clear that she didn’t want to talk to me because she hung up the phone.

          I grabbed my bag and walked downstairs. “Are you alright honey?” My mother asked. I only nodded my head in response and grabbed the car keys. “Where are you going?”

          “Emmett’s,” I said, tears already running down my face as I said his name. Why did this have to happen to me?

          “Are you sure that you are going to be ok?”

          “I don’t think I have much of a choice. His mother called and wants me there as soon as possible.” That was the most that I had said in probably a few weeks.