There used to be three of us.
Lizzie James, the smart one who had wanted to be a doctor since the tender age of five, when she'd ended up in hospital with a broken arm. It was a good fit for her though. She always cared for the people around her, which was why everyone liked her so much. I envied her intelligence, and her looks. She had silky, black hair and tanned skin, and she didn't need to plaster her face in make-up. I'd known Lizzie longer than anyone else.
There was me, Amber Worth. I wasn't super intelligent, my grades were average, and I wasn't the prettiest girl in the world. My hair was short and brown, I hated my freckles, and I was usually covered in numerous cuts and bruises. I was a tomboy and I loved climbing trees and playing football with the lads. People liked me as well though, because like Lizzie, I cared for my friends. I stood up for people. I was probably the loudest and most confident of our little trio.
Then there was the older one of our group, the mother, as we called her. Becky Forber. She was pretty as well, and very slim with a face like a china doll. Her brown hair was a slightly lighter shade than mine, and she'd had many compliments on her sparkling, blue eyes. Becky wanted to be a writer. She dreamed of getting one of her many books published one day. I think she'd written about five in total. She used to be known as the quiet, shy girl.
Now, she was known as the dead girl.
I often wondered what happened after death. Did Heaven and Hell exist? Was there an afterlife? I liked to think that a total stranger in the street or a bird in the sky could have been Becky in a new life, or even my great Aunt Mary. I mean, it could be possible, right?
I stayed with that thought, as I listened to the sound of angelic voices around me. The glowing sun hit the stained-glass window above me and for a second, I felt as if a spotlight had hit me. I was by no means religious but being at Church on a Sunday morning was a comfort and somehow made me feel a lot closer to Becky. I didn't blame God for what had happened that day because deep down, I knew it was my fault.
"You sing beautifully."
The stranger's voice was soft and gentle, and belonged to the elderly lady next to me. She was quite small and thin with a mop of curly, grey hair, and a kind smile. Her dress was white with flowers on and she leant on her walking stick to steady herself.
"Thanks," I whispered and returned the smile.
The singing carried on but as I turned my attention back to my song sheet, she leaned in towards me and spoke again. She smelt of mints and lavender perfume.
"Do you sing professionally?"
I used to hate singing, until I joined the choir at school. In fact, it was Becky's idea to join in the first place. Now she was gone, and Lizzie had quit singing for good. I was the only left from our trio. Don't get me wrong, I got on with everyone else in the choir. The teacher was wacky and fun, and I loved to sing, but it certainly wasn't the same without my best friends.
"You should look into it," She told me, when the service had finished. "Singing professionally, I mean. You really do have a lovely voice. The name is Sunny Goodheart by the way."
Her name sounded like something out of a fairytale.
"Amber Worth," I introduced myself quietly.
She began to pack up incredibly slowly. I was desperate to leave but it seemed polite to stay and wait for her.
"So, what have you asked Santa for Christmas this year, young Amber?" She asked.
I felt myself blush a bright shade of red. I was fourteen.
"Oh, I..."
"What?" She gasped dramatically and threw a hand to her chest. "Are you saying you don't believe?"
"Well, I..." I stammered awkwardly. "I have three little sisters so I kind of have to for them, but the whole thing seems a bit...Silly."
"There's nothing silly about magic or fun," and she waggled her finger at me like most old ladies did. "So, what would you like for Christmas anyway?" She asked again.
"I'm not sure." I shrugged. "A new phone?"
"Teenagers," She scoffed. "I'd like some new slippers, maybe that lavender perfume that you can hardly ever find."
"Elderly," I scoffed back, and she laughed and gave me a wink. I liked her. "You know what I really want for Christmas?" I said. "To see my best friend again."
"Then you must start to believe, Young Amber," She said. "Wishes can come true."
"This one will," I said confidently. "I know it will."
*
The house was loud and mental as usual.
The littlest two were up in their room with their music on as loud as possible. They thudded and jumped around as if they were the only two in the house. The TV and the radio were both on downstairs, and I could hear Mum talking loudly on the phone to her best friend Denise.
Not a lot of people knew this about my family, but Mum and Dad both grew up in foster care and always dreamed of having a big family. I was the oldest of four.
I absolutely adored my parents and my siblings, but it was hard to catch a break sometimes.
We lived in a gorgeous house in the countryside, right at the end of Dychurch Road, surrounded by fields full of horses and sheep. I had the very top room in the attic with my eleven-year-old sister, Lauren. It was the biggest bedroom with a little, round window, and sometimes if we couldn't sleep, we pretended we lived in a haunted house. Lauren and I loved horror.
Lauren was out with Dad when I got home. They'd gone to pick up some new ornaments for the tree. I used to help Dad with that job but, now I had more important things to do. Life was short.
"Is that you, Amber?" Mum called when she was off the phone and hurried into the hallway with a tea towel. "Where have you been? Dad and Lauren have already left."
"It's cool." I shrugged my shoulders. "Had some last-minute bits to get."
I couldn't tell Mum about my regular church visits. We didn't go every Sunday, we didn't pray before dinner, and we'd never gone to Midnight Mass. It would only worry her.
"Come and see what I've bought for Lauren!" Mum squealed and clapped her hands together like an excitable child.
I followed her through to the back garden and saw a large, white rabbit with wonky, long ears in a hutch that I'd never seen before. Lauren had always wanted a pet, but Mum and Dad had always thought she was way too young for that kind of responsibility. In two years' time though, she'd be a teenager and most of her friends already had pets. Darren Print from across the way had only just turned two and he had three dogs, two guinea pigs, and some fish.
"She's going to love him," I said. "Does he have a name?"
"No," She said. "Thought I'd let Lauren name him. You wouldn't mind helping me move him into the garage, would you? He needs to remain top secret until Christmas Day."
I nodded, with a hope to escape to my room after if I helped out.
"Did you get the twins sorted?" Mum asked.
"Ssshh!" I quickly hushed her. "They're only in their room."
"They won't hear us," Mum said and rolled her eyes. "Got their music on."
"They might," I laughed. "I'll tell you what I got them later."
The twins, Billie and Lucy, were nine. They shared a room as well, right next to Mum and Dad's. They did everything together, and totally adored Lauren and I, but they longed to be older siblings themselves. I wouldn't be surprised if it happened, as it was clear Mum and Dad both wanted more kids.
"Listen," Mum said, once we'd moved the rabbit into the garage. "Your dad and I have been talking. It's been a tough year and now that you're a lot older, we wondered if you wanted to move into the spare bedroom and have your own space."
"Really?" I frowned.
I'd shared with Lauren for years.
"Well, we'll be sorting the garage out after Christmas and I'm hoping to use that as my study," Mum said. "So, the spare room will be empty. You're a teenager and you'll have exams soon so will need that study space. We won't move anything until after Christmas so have a think, okay? We just thought it would be a nice treat for you."
"Sure," I agreed. "Can I go to my room now? I have homework."
"Okay," Mum said. "Dinner will be ready in an hour. Whilst you're up there, tell those two to quieten down. I don't want the neighbours to complain."
I promised I would and when I'd eventually got the twins to listen to me, I shut myself in my bedroom. Because Lauren was out, I luckily had the room to myself for a bit.
I turned over the calendar and kept flicking until I reached May 10th. A small sigh escaped my mouth, and I blinked to hold back my tears. That was the date last year where Becky had lost her life.
I counted carefully, twice just to make sure.
148 days until the one-year anniversary.
148 days until the day I will die.