Contrast

62

"So..." I sigh, not really knowing where to begin. "You already know about the accident and me being in the hospital, so I guess I should just go from there."

"Okay, that makes sense. Just take a deep breath, no need to rush it," Elena tells me.

My throat tightens and I swallow harshly. Pouring myself another glass of whiskey, I prepare to dig up all the memories I once fought so hard to bury.

Once I begin to tell the story, every word I speak to Elena takes me right back to those memories as if I am physically reliving them all over again.

. . .

"Drew!! Can you come out here, please?"

I let out a weary groan as I hear my mother's voice calling for me from the kitchen, feeling particularly cranky after another sleepless night.

When I shift around in bed, I scowl at the pain radiating from my left shoulder. It still aches from the accident every so often, the 3-inch long scar a permanent reminder of what I did. I know that one day I want to get a whole collection of tattoos across my chest and arms, but I don't think I'll ever be able to muster the strength to cover the scar.

It's been nearly six months since the accident and not a single day has passed where I don't feel like I'm drowning in misery.

I miss Bella so much it is almost too much to bare, sometimes even sleeping in her bed despite my legs draping over the end of it and her Barbie blanket not being long enough to cover even half my body. None of us have had the strength to clean her room out, every single item is still in the exact same spot she left it.

I use our pink headset almost every night too, not daring to take off any of the stickers she stuck on it. When I lose myself in all-night Minecraft sessions, I can almost sense her presence, as if she's playing alongside me once again. Even if our headset gets so old to the point where I can barely distinguish people's voices, I never want to replace it.

I've been managing to keep myself together for the past couple of weeks until I can't. I've been able to focus on football drills and play studies, but each and every day my mind inevitably wanders to her. The thoughts stampede in my mind like a tidal wave and suddenly, my entire body aches in overwhelming pain.

I have no idea how much longer this will hurt, but I hope to god that one day when I think about Bella I won't think of blood, darkness, and screaming, but instead, I will only see her smiling face and hear her contagious laughter.

My fingers unconsciously fiddle with Bella's ring on my pinky finger, something I always do when I feel nervous. Its presence brings a bittersweet mixture of comfort and sorrow, a tangible reminder of what I've lost. With a heavy sigh, I rise from my bed, my tired eyes struggling to stay open.

Stepping into my kitchen, a lump forms in my throat as I'm met with a scene that feels eerily familiar. My parents sit together at our kitchen table, and around two months ago they sat in these very same positions when they told me they were getting a divorce.

Bella's passing has taken a heavy toll on their relationship, and I know it is all my fault. Mom has tried to tell me it isn't, and although our relationship was definitely pretty damaged at the beginning of all this, we have found a lot more comfort in each other these last few months, especially now that my father has been sleeping on the couch.

I've even slept in my Mom's bed a few times and she has helped me through panic attacks. Part of me still hasn't forgiven her for leaving me alone during the middle of my first one at the hospital, but she eventually apologized profusely and told me she just felt so numb and didn't know what to do.