our final night alive || simon kalivoda

part 1

i let the phone ring for another time, patiently awaiting my friend's answer. heather was working the night shift at our town's mall and is usually always on top of my calls. but tonight was different.

"c'mon heather," i whispered, starting to get annoyed. "just answer."

when my last call went to voicemail again, i sighed and gave up on talking to her. i'd see her at school tomorrow anyway.

i crawled under my sheets and turned off my lamp. the moon perfectly illuminated the ever-growing pile of homework i still needed to do, but i shrugged it off and went to sleep.

when i woke up the next morning, i found that my sheets were on the floor. must've had another nightmare. i grudgingly sat up and swung my legs over the edge of my bed, swiftly slipping my feet into my loafers.

i went downstairs to find my mom passed out on the couch, surrounded by leftover pizza crust and soda cans. or, as i looked closer, beer cans sloppily painted red for me to overlook.

"you said you'd stop, mom," i said, picking up her mess and pulling the blanket higher to her chest.

i threw out the cans and crust and looked in the fridge for something to eat. my stomach was grumbling and i clutched it. our fridge was mostly empty, save some eggs and ketchup. i looked over next to the sink and stared at the week-old bread loaf. something was better than nothing. i grabbed a slice and ran upstairs to change.

the laundry hadn't been done in a few days, so i searched through the pile on my chair for the cleanest clothes. i settled on a green sweater and some baggy jeans i had ripped ages ago. throwing on my beaten converse, i slung my backpack over my shoulder and rushed downstairs.

before leaving, i gave my mom a quick kiss on the temple and grabbed the car keys from the dining room table.

i'm shit at driving, but it was better than walking almost two miles to school in this weather.

i arrived at school and got out of the car. i reached over the drivers seat to grab my bag and then closed the door.

today the halls were unusually busy, but i didn't care. i just wanted to talk to heather.

i walked down the hall to heathers locker, but instead of seeing my beautiful, bubbly best friend, notes and pictures littered the door. confused, i made my way through the mess of students.

"i'm so sorry, y/n," a girl said as she passed me, lightly resting her hand on my shoulder.

no, no, no.

this can't be real.

this is all just a prank.

tears pricked at my eyes, threatening to burst out like a broken dam.

heather can't be dead.

another student came up behind me. "she was such a kind girl. i'm so sorry for your loss."

i heard the whispers from a group of people sitting by the window. the whispers that they thought i couldn't hear, but really were the only things flooding my head.

"what are they gonna do?"

"weren't they supposed to go to the mall with heather?"

"heather and them were so close."

and fuck. they were all right. i was supposed to go to work with heather that night, but i had decided to go to some stupid cheer thing instead.

heather had gotten me into cheerleading. she said it would help me become more "popular". i didn't care about being popular. as long as i had good close friends, who cared about a bunch of fake ones?

i felt another persons hand on the back of my shoulder. i don't know if they said their condolences to me or not, because i broke down into tears and fled to the bathroom.

i locked myself in a stall and sunk to the ground, pushing my knees up to my chin.

heather was dead.

my best friend was dead.