Forgetting the Murder

15: Sleepovers

At the party there was alcohol being served and Kirsty was offered a drink. I didn't think Kirsty would be the one who would fall for that kind of pressure but she was, and she liked it so much she had another one, and another. Soon she was absolutely wasted.

Kirsty never came home the next morning. Her parents were asking me where she was and what happened but I could only tell them she was at a party last night, there was nothing else I knew. A few days later Kirsty was found behind a hedge in a small field a mile away from the house the party was being held in. Dead.

She tried to walk home from the party and felt sleepy so she tried to sleep behind that hedge. However, it was so cold, especially that wearing a pair of shorts, she died from hypothermia. The only reason I know what happened at the party is from a boy, Tristan, in our year who Kirsty hooked up with that night.

A tear rolled down my cheek at the memory. Everyone knows the warning of alcohol and underage drinking although nobody ever seems to listen to them. Alcohol can be fun, it makes you feel good and forget your troubles. It helps for a good time and tastes good. Although the aftermath is never enjoyable. It can wreck your life as well as other's. It can also end your life.

I don't mind people having a glass of wine at dinner or a bit of champange at a wedding although when it gets out of hand, that's when it starts to aggravate me. Emily doesn't even know the story of Kirsty, Mum and Dad decided it was best not to tell her. It wouldn't have changed her views on drinking anyway, like it did to me. Things have a much bigger effect on you when you know the person affected.

I heard the front door shut, shaking me out of my thoughts. I got dressed into simple denim shorts and a pink vest top (it's warm outside today) and headed downstairs for breakfast. While I was eating my cereal my mum started to speak to me.

"So, where were you yesterday?" she asked.

"Uh, Zeke's," I answered.

"You're at his quite a lot, aren't you?"

"Am I not allowed to be?"

"Well," My mum looked uncomfortable, "I'd prefer if maybe you didn't spend just as much time with him."

I glared at Mum. "What?"

"A mechanic? Don't you think you can do better? Your boss seems lovely, not to mention handsome."

"I think you misunderstood the situation. This is my life."

"Well your ruining it,"

I stood up defensively. I was like a volcano; all this pressure and rage was just bubbling away inside of me, and soon it had to come out.

"Don't you dare talk to me about Zeke!" I yelled.

"I'm just trying to decide the best for you, dear."

"You don't need to decide anything, this is my life, these are my choices!"

My Mum stood up so she was face-to-face with me. "Sometimes I just don't think you're making the right choices."

"I'm sick of you! I'm sick of this family! I'm leaving!" I put on my brown leather jacket, took hold of my car keys and headed towards the front door.

"Where are you going?"

"You'll never know,"

And with that I walked out the door, slamming it behind me. I got in my car and drove to the first place that entered my mind.

"Zeke!" I cried as the door opened to reveal his beautiful but confused face. I ran to him and huged him tightly.

"Abby?" he questioned as he returned the hug.