Hey people! Sorry I haven't updated for so long, I just have had a lot going on =_= But I tried to make this a long chapter to make up for the long wait and the earlier short chapter. Hope you'll forgive me :)
Lucy slammed the door to her car and walked up to our group, taking in deep breaths of the drug's smoke.
"What do you have?" she asked me.
"Something just for you," I said, half-smiling, as I handed her the one that I had just papered and a lighter.
"Thanks," she said, lighting up.
I never smoked myself. I thought it was too much for my lungs. Everyone else thought I did, but they were so drugged up that they hardly noticed me at all. The only reason why I hung out with them was because I had to get away from the hole that was inside my chest. Although it wasn't the greatest kind of crowd, it made me have a sense of reality. I went from day to day, just thinking about what had happened, but when I start to breathe in that secondary smoke and drink my cheap beer, I actually feel something besides pain, which, in my case, is nothing at all. It made me forget it for a little while. But no matter how many people I hang out with, or how many boos I drink, I can't fully take my mind, or heart, off of Patty.
I still remember that day, in the middle of summer, such a hot morning, must have been over 100 outside. I could smell the bacon my mom was making downstairs as I slouched out of bed.
*three years earlier* The doorbell rang. "I'll get it," I called to my mom as I reached the ground floor, spinning around the stair railing to the front door.
When I opened the door, I saw a short, stout police officer in the doorway, holding a small blue note book and a badge. Holding up the badge so I could see, he said in a weezy voice, "Hello. Is there a..." he flipped through his note book, searching for something. "Shermy...Greene?"
A lump went up into my throat. Had I done something wrong? I didn't remember breaking any laws. Heck, I didn't even break any rules, let alone laws. It had to be about one of my friends... but that didn't make me feel any better.
"I'm he," I said, motioning him inside.
"Thanks," he said as he shuffled into our living room.
"Who is it, Honey?" Mom asked, walking into the living room with a towel thrown over her shoulder, wiping her hands on her old-fashioned lace apron.
She stopped moving when she saw the officer.
He tipped his hat in her direction, and said, "Just have to ask a few questions, and I have a bit off bad news."
"What's the bad news?" my mom snapped, crossing over to sit next to me on the couch. The officer ran a hand over his face and pinched the bridge of his nose.
"Do you know Pat or Patty Barlowe?" the officer asked.
You mean that one girl who visits my house every other day? That girl who laughs at all my jokes? The one who I do everything with? The person who I told everything from the deepest parts of my heart except my feelings for her? That... being who made my stomach flip over every time she looked at me? Patty, the girl who I was madly in love with? Oh, yeah. How would I ever be able to forget?
"Yeah, we... know each other pretty well," I said. What had she done? What would Patty do that would make a police officer come to my house?
"Well, this might be hard to take, but... she was run over by a car this morning while walking across the street. She's dead. I'm sorry."
She's dead. I had heard the words but I couldn't believe them. My mom had stiffened, her hand laying on my back, and it felt strange and alien there. The police officer looked at us, a frightened expression on his face, as if we might explode or run around the house waving our arms above our heads, screaming at everything that moved. And at that moment, I felt like doing it.
"D-dead?" I stuttered, just to make sure I had heard right. But when I said it, the word seemed to burn my tongue.
The officer nodded. "Yes. We don't know who ran her over; it was a hit and run, although we are pretty sure it was an accident."
I suddenly felt like screaming. I felt like finding the person who had done this to Patty, wanted them to suffer. Wring their neck, whip them, burn them. Especially since they had done the cowardly thing and just ran away. But, even if they had given themselves in, would I ever forgive them?
Mom sighed. "Thank you for... informing us. You are welcome to leave when you see fit." She looked at the officer with a strange fire in her eyes, as if it was his fault Patty had... gone. He was startled with her statement, but mostly by the glare she was giving him. He quickly got to his feet and mumbling a good-bye, left in a hurry.
"Honey," Mom said softly once he had left, "I'm so sorry. I know you two were close..." I ignored her and got up to leave. I just had to be alone. I ran out the door and into the street, not caring about the strange and startled looks from the neighbors. I passed Lucy's house, Charlie's, Pig-Pen's... But I didn't stop until I arrived at a grey house with a beautiful garden and large tree with a tree-house. It was surrounded by about five police cars, but no police officers. I didn't care, though. I just needed to see our place. I headed over to the tree, and started climbing up to the little tree house.
It was small, but seemed like such a comfort to me. A pile of magazines lay in a corner, and a pair of beanbags lay across from them. So many memories flooded up to me, and I couldn't stop the tears from flowing from my eyes. I had fallen in love with someone here... I had shared my first kiss here... I spent the best hours of my life here...
It was too much. I stayed in the treehouse until the sun began to set, leaving it a golden-magenta color. Patty would have enjoyed it. I could see her face, right here, next to mine. She would be staring at the sunset, enjoying its beauty, thinking I was looking at it too, just as she always does, but I would really be studying her.
She was the most beautiful person I knew. She had dark, chestnut hair that was cut into a short bob, and eyes that were greener than the grass in her lawn. Freckles dotted her face and nose, and her lips were a light red, soft as ever. But she wasn't there. She never would be.
It had taken my mom a few weeks to finally realize that I needed counseling. But even when I did visit the councilor about three times a week, I had a hard time eating and sleeping. I started to steal, thinking adrenaline would take away the pain. No. I was violent, and had harsh arguments with Mom, which resulted with her kicking me out of the house. It was all right; I was 19 years old. I started hanging out with my new druggie friends. But nothing gets my mind off of her.
Nothing ever would. I hated life. They never found out who had killed her, and deep down inside I feel like I will someday figure it out and get revenge. I had thought about suicide, because I really had nothing to live for, but that one thought, revenge, is what keeps me going.
Hope you liked it! Don't forget to review :) I'll try to update the next chap more quickly than this one.