Lost Half

16

Dear Ethan,

I guess I just forgot that you died in the car accident. I might have just needed somewhere else to go, to escape to, and I was closest with your family. I don't exactly know the reason why I ran to your house, but I did.

When I got there, your father stared strangely at me. "Emily, what are you doing here?" he asked.

"Can I just stay here a few days?" I asked, my voice cracking. "I'm having family problems.."

Your father nodded. "You're family. You're welcome to stay," he said. Quieter, he added, "Is it about the accident?" He blinked, probably to hold back tears.

"It all leads back to the accident," I replied. "My mom's been drinking and has became abusive. CPS was called, and she had her friend beat me. I hit him and ran here." I was amazed at how freely I spoke to your father. Your mother was in the kitchen making dinner when he called to her. She came in and smiled.

"Hello, Emily. Do you want to see Ethan?" she asked.

My smile faded. "Um, Ethan has been dead for a few months now," I told her gently. "He died in the accident."

Your mother looked down. "That's right. I'm sorry, I just can't believe he's gone." She began to cry and your father wrapped her in a warm hug.

"I'm sorry I couldn't save him," I said, feeling guilty as I watched your mother cry.

"Don't be sorry, Emily. You lost your legs trying to save our son. Ethan isn't hurting anymore, but you are." Your father looked at me. "You can stay in his room. We haven't moved any of his things, so you'll be comfortable."

I nodded, thanking your parents. I gave one last glance to your mother, who laid sobbing in your father's strong arms, before racing up the stairs. I opened the door to your bedroom, where memories flooded into my mind. I sat down on your bed, your smell overwhelming me. I glanced around, my eyes landing on your guitar. I smiled and touched the wood gently, remembering all the times I would come to listen to a new song you learned. I used to love to come to your house to hear a song you wrote, and I was obsessed over your voice. You could say or sing anything, and I would be in love.

As I was thinking about these things, I snuggled into your bed, breathing in the familiar scents until I fell asleep.