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Death was unforgiving. Death didn't care who it hurt in the process of stealing someone from this plane of existence. In the matter of hours your life can drastically change. And what hurts the most is when death appears from nowhere, robbing you of the chance of saying goodbye.
The one singular willow tree in the school grounds seemed to be weeping with it's students at the loss of Abigail Mortimer. A shared mourning filling the corridors and classrooms of a school, an insignificant school, a school like any other in England. Friendships were questioned and an unexplained chill blanketed the small community. Like a kettle left on the hob to boil the pressures of normality were pushed to breaking point. It was only a matter of time before somebody cracked.
"God Susan's bad enough trying to be like her. Trying to be Abbie... But you! Who the hell do you think you are?! Trying to stop us from grieving..." The y/h/c girl paused gathering her thoughts, trying to find a way to tactfully navigate her way through her thoughts. Placing her cup of tea down Y/N was terrified the hot liquid would burn her due to the rage flooding through her. How could everything change in the blink of an eye. The Lamont's kitchen no longer seemed like the y/s/c girl's second home. The small room seemed smaller and darker without Abbie there. Abbie had one of those intoxicating laughter's that could make even the worst of situations seem like nothing. They'd all lost Abbie and knowing that she was never coming back was unbelievable. Y/N regularly still expected the phone to ring and Abbie to gush about some boy she'd met. The blonde had a habit of ranting as soon as the dial tone stopped not caring who was on the other end of the phone, something Y/N's Mother was most unamused by. Y/N knew she was going to grow up, move on with her life but Abbie... Abbie would stay beautifully sixteen. Forever. The unfair irony of the friend with the most life to get snuffed out first.
"She was our friend too, you were possessive of her before but now you're crazy! You're just as mental as your Mother Lydia Lamont." the young y/h/c girl seethed, the girl was aware of how cruel her statement was but the words came pouring out before she could stop herself. Lydia remained silent, the dark haired teen had become borderline mute since that afternoon. The afternoon when her walk back from school went from a trio to a duo... The girl had stopped functioning, her eyes now sullen, the bags under her eyes more noticeable than ever on her sickly pale skin. Lydia looked like death and Y/N couldn't standby any longer watching her practically kill herself with each day that passed. It was probably selfish to leave Lydia like that but you can only try so many times to save someone set on self destruct.
"I'm sorry Lydia but you're scaring me. You need help." Y/N mumbled picking up her school bag from the floor, her knuckles white due to her grip on the leather strap. Leaving the Lamont home the y/h teenager wondered if Lydia would ever recover. Or if she'd continue spiralling to the point of no return. She seems to slightly pause upon her silent way, pondering if any of them would recover or if Abbie Mortimer had broken them all beyond repair with her sudden exit.
