My Best Friend

Chapter 11 - End.

Glen and I were together for nearly 5 years. We had moved into a studio apartment, states away from our hometown.

She was attending college and working for a well known company as an intern while I was doing night school to become a nurse. Things were great. We were both happy, in fact, I had an engagement ring chosen out. I was planning to ask on our anniversary, only a week away before the accident...

It was a late and cold night, nearly 11 pm. I had called Glen up to ask her to come pick me up from class because my car wouldn't started for some reason. She had told me she was on her way so I went to wait outside the hospital, knowing it only took about 10 minutes to get here from our apartment.

Time ticked by slowly, I occasionally would check my phone. As soon as 11 minutes had passes, I started to grow a little worried. But I forced myself to calm down, she must had gotten stuck in traffic of something.

Soon 15 minutes passed by, then 30... I started to worry and quickly called her just as snow started to fall. Three rings, no answer. I call again. No answer. I call four more times before I see an ambulance driving fast towards the hospital.

My heart starts to drop, sheer panic striking hard within me. I call again and again before the ambulance stops just a few feet away from me, quickly unloading a pale woman with light brown hair on a stretcher.

"Glen... Glen!" I screamed rushing over to them, trying to get past but they blocked the way. My eyes were locked on to Glen, her body limp and nearly lifeless. She looked so fragile and broken, blood and gashes just in places you could see.

"Ma'am, you're going to need to step back." A woman said, pulling away from the rest to hold me back.
"What happened. WHAT HAPPENED?!" I screamed off the top of my lungs, drawing some people outside to see what was going on.
"Ma'am you need to calm down, we are going to do the best we can. There was a crash on route 48 involving a drunk driver. The driver was found dead and this woman barely alive. We need to operate quickly." The woman explains as they take my Glen inside and to the operating rooms.

Tears are streaming down my face; i had knew something was wrong from the moment 11 minutes had pasted by. I pushed the lady away and ran inside, looking quickly for where they had went. I ran to the room but was stopped by a doctor.

"I'm sorry but you can't go in." He says, only making me angry.
"She's my girlfriend, I'm not leaving her alone." I argue, glaring him straight in the face.
"Your girlfriend is in surgery, the beat you can do for her know is fill out the information sheet in that chair over there." He points to an empty chair and grabs the sheet and a pen for me.

I hesitate but go. Sitting down and filling out the paper work then pacing around, waiting for any news.

"June 14; Glen Maire Warren, age 24. Ramped into at full speed by drunk driver David Allen Shemly, age 46. Mr. Shemly was announced dead on the scene, killed by impact. Ms. Warren was announced dead at 12:34 am. at Saint Ann's Hospital, killed by severe injuries. Our prayers go out to their loved ones." I read in the newspapers three days later.

I hadn't slept since that night, nor did I go home for almost two days. I had refused to leave her side, refused to believe she was so easily taken from me.

She was my best friend, my savior, my knight in shining armor. And most importantly, I love her with all my heart. Without her I am nothing.

I had known her my whole life and wanted to spend each waking second with her. To adopt kids or even 50 cats. To grow old with her and hold hands was we went through the pain of death together. To be buried side by side and watch over everyone from heaven; she would make a cheesy joke, something along the lines of "people dying to get up here" and I'd roll my eyes and mutter those three little words.

I had never gotten to say a proper good by, I had never even gotten the chance to say how much I loved her in our final phone call...

It's funny how quickly things can change and how quickly the ones we love and care about can be taken from us. But I guess not all good things last forever, no matter how much we want it too...

5 years have passed by now since the accident. Only a week away from our would-have-been-anniversary. Unlike like most breakups, I still haven't gotten over Glen. Every night I think of her, and every night I tell my 3 year old daughter about her mother who is watching over her in heaven.