What Remains

Prologue

Avas POV

My phone vibrates in my pocket. I don't even have to look. Mom's smiling face flashes across the screen, making me more irritated.

"Yes, I'm almost done. Just give me five more minutes, god!" I say already digging through my bag one last time. I shut it, almost too hard.

I hang up before she can even response and shove the phone back into my jeans. I reach for my winter jacket at the back of my wardrobe and grab it roughly.

It slips. Falls to the floor. And when I bend down to pick it up— Something hits my head.

"Ouch—what the hell...this fucking stupid wedding" I mutter, rubbing the spot. Who even plans a winter wedding?

But then I freeze. The shoebox. It's sitting there next to the jacket. I haven't opened this box in years, not since I put it up on the shelf when I first moved here. Not since I last.. nope. I swallowed hard. Not going there. But my stomach tightens anyway. Knowing to well of all the memories I've kept in there for so long. Hidden away from the world.

I pick it up and sits down on my bed, slowly opening the lid. With shaky fingers i slowly reach for the upside-down picture at the top and turn it around. A smiling me with my arm around my former best friend Calum is staring back at me. He was smiling too, the kind of smile that reached his eyes and made them glow with happiness. I remember when dad took this picture of us, I had just turned fourteen and Calum surprised me with the most beautiful necklace I had ever seen. I reached for my neck, playing with the heart accessory resting between my collarbones.
A sudden wave of sadness rushes through me at the thought of Calum, or Cal as I always called him. He once told me that he used to hate when people called him that, but thought I sounded adorable when I said it. Since then he was Cal for me. Other people tried calling him Cal too, but he always corrected them.
He had truly been my best friend and as we grew older he became my everything. And somehow, somewhere along the way he became the person I hate the most.

I haven't seen him since we graduated. It feels like a lifetime ago. He tried to reach out. Couple of messages. Calls. But I blocked them all. In the beginning he wrote a couple of letters. I still remember his handwriting " I'm sorry." "I wish I could've done something differently."
Well, damaged was done and there was nothing he could do to fix it. A sorry simply wouldn't fix it and at this point I'm not sure anything can.

I sigh placing the box back on the shelf where it belongs.

"This is the last time," I whisper. But I don't know if it's to the box. Or him.

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OKAY what even is this?? My first language is NOT English so I apologize before hand if the grammar/ sentence structure isn't correct :)
Don't know if anyone will even read this, been a couple of years since I wrote something. But I love it, just haven't had the courage to really publish anything.

xx oholyyhood ;)