Letters from the Sky

Highway to Hell

I remember that night.

I remember it so clearly.

I can tell you where I was.

I can tell you what I was doing.

I can tell you what song was playing on the speakers.

I can also tell you how I felt when I found out.

For my whole entire life, I was content.

I felt at peace with my family and my friends.

The most important thing was that I had Alex by my side.

Alex was my twin sister and my best friend.

We looked exactly alike, so alike that people said we could probably pull off being clones and we could also pull off being each other perfectly. We never did switch, however, because we thought it was stupid. Our parents told us that from the beginning, we had twin telepathy. It was like everything one of us did or felt, the other one also did or felt.

Five and half years ago, when I was about twelve, I lived the cliché of how everything can change in a moment.

They told me that it was a nineteen-year-old drunk driver whose Blood Alcohol Level was about two times the legal limit and contained traces of heroin. He was coming from a party that was later busted and there they found other hard drugs and a crazy amount of alcohol. He was going the wrong way and my mom tried to skid to avoid him, but it was too late. He hit the car head on and it flipped a couple of times before landing upside down.

My mom and Alex died instantly.

My dad had them cremated because we both couldn't stand the thought of them rotting away in the ground. Then, as soon as possible, we moved away from the part of England we lived in, Newcastle upon Tyne. We moved back to my dad's hometown and into the house he had inherited from his parents.

I told myself that from that day forward, I was never going to trust a guy.

I swore to myself that I was never going to let another guy in again.

That was, however, until Cason Eastwood came along.