A killer headache was what I was greeted by as soon as I began gaining consciousness. I wasn't sure where I was but by the smell of the place and feeling of the stiff bed I could only assume I was at a hospital.
"Emily are you okay?" I hear someone ask. I don't know what to say but decide on asking what is more important at the moment.
"What happened?" I ask.
"The doctor said you were taking drugs, is it true?" I was taking drugs... I thought I was dead already but I'm here in the hospital. They probably extracted the drugs out of my system, but why can I still see him.
"Who the hell are you?" I'm so confused, why does he look exactly like him!
"I'm Adam, Emily!" he stands up, clearly frustrated by my question.
"You can't be him! I killed him! I -"
"I survived Emily! Your parents kept me away from you!" at that point I'm left speechless as the truth suddenly strikes me.
"What? Why would they do that?" as I speak, I hold the top of my nose trying to prevent the pain from spreading.
"For many reasons, I assume you know them." my parents never approved of my relationship with Adam or any of my old friends. They always thought that spending time with friends distracted me from my studies and school.
"Do you mean they made me think you were dead all these years? Oh my god!" I close my eyes and take a deep breath. members of that night start pushing into my head.
"Oh my god. Paul, they're all dead! There is... there's blood everywhere... please pick up!" I didn't know what to do, all I knew was that I needed help immediately. Suddenly everything disappeared. I couldn't even call 911. I was drunk and out of energy and all I thought about was to call my brother Paul. My chest was bleeding but I was conscious unlike the others.
"Hey, answer me guys! Please... don't do this to me!" my eyes were full of tears I could barely see. All I could see were my hands stained in blood as well as theirs. I tried so hard not to panic but everything was closing me in. My breathing was becoming harsh every second that passed by and I could only hold on for so long.
I remember waking up later in a hospital bed with my family surrounding me. As I looked around the room, everyone was weeping, even dad. I became instantly scared for I had never seen my father cry.
"Why is everyone crying?!" I asked desperately. They turned to look at me, they're faces full of sympathy. I scowled at them, I hated, and no I detested people looking at me with sympathy.
"What's going on?" I repeated louder.
"they're dead, all of them."
A blow to the head is what I felt as I heard the news.
Flashbacks were beginning to evade my mind. I stayed still for a few seconds, eyes wide open. My fists clenched immediately; I began shaking, and my eyes were already filled with tears. I began screaming, nothing in that moment could make me feel at ease. Everything was coming back to me, all that had happened was tormenting me. I pulled at my hair, not wanting to accept what was happening. I couldn't stop my actions, from an observer's point of view I looked like a complete psychopath. The nurses came in immediately, and somehow I began to feel weak. I laid back into the bed, and soon was unconscious.
Instead of ending up in jail, I ended up in a therapist's office. Dad dropped all of my chargers, making it look like a normal car accident. After the incident though, my parents took me to various doctors. They all came to the same conclusion, I was indeed mentally ill. Although this was the truth, my parents refused to accept I was ill, so that's how I ended up at the therapist. I was getting better as the days passed by but the guilt never faded away and it never will. I knew from the moment the incident happened, that I would never free of this guilt. That is why I decided to let them believe I was getting better and no longer needed medicine. It was pointless making them waste their money on something that wasn't making any change. I decided leaving was my best option, I wanted to live a life away from the past so I moved to New York.
