Forgetting the Murder

17: Happy Endings

This is my favourite part of the whole story. I repeat this scene over and over in my head on a daily basis. Every time I relive it I get the same butterflies I got at the time. It's truly amazing how good memories to be, and I just don't want to forget any of them. I love to think that one person can make you feel so special. That's what love is, I guess, isn't it? 

***

Steve's words from yesterday kept me thinking. I did ever so badly want to tell Zeke how I feel but I just couldn't bring myself to do it. I was a coward, and I knew it.

I still wasn't speaking to my mum, or my dad for that matter. He was just a spineless jerk who Mum had wrapped around her little finger. Nor had I spoken to Emily since I made my startling discovery.

I got up really early and went for a run. I was taking a break when Tristen, the guy who told me about Kirsty, walked down the street.

"Abby! Abby Winston, is that you?" he cried when he spotted me.

"Tristen! I haven't seen you in years!" I replied.

He went to hug me, and I was about to refuse as I was afraid I would be all sweaty, but Tristen insisted. Then he sat beside me on the wall.

"So, um, do you ever think about Kirsty?" he asked me warily. I guess it was the only thing we had in common to talk about.

I sighed, "Quite a bit, really. I haven't had much more than a glass of wine my whole life. She's just made such and effect on me.

"I wish she had that effect on me," Tristen paused, "To me that night, Kirsty was just a bit of fun for me. I didn't care about her. In fact, I was the one who offered her the drink."

His words made my heart ache. One could say it was all his fault, but I knew blaming him wouldn't be fair. He was just a child at the time.

He continued to speak, "I wouldn't even walk her home. I got what I wanted from her, I didn't want her anymore, I didn't need her. So, I sent her off on her travels, alone. The worst part is though, when I found out about her I didn't even feel guilty. I didn't see it as my fault. Hell, I didn't even realise they were the same person. I understand if you hate me now."

"I don't hate you, Tristen," I whispered.

And I honestly didn't hate him. He made mistakes, who hadn't? I had learned to live with imperfections.

"The whole thing didn't even change me. I continued going to parties, getting drunk and using girls. Last night my fiancée dumped me." he looked as if he was about to break down in tears.

"I'm sorry. Really, I am,"

"There's nothing to be sorry for. It was fault." he swore under his breath before continuing, "I'm going to give up the drink now, I swear."

Then I realised exactly what was happening with Tristen's life. He was an alcoholic. The messy hair, the bloodshot eyes and the faint smell of alcohol still lingering on his clothes. He didn't need to explain anymore to me, I knew exactly what had happened in his life. His fiancée had probably been trying to get him off the drink for years now.

Two examples of underage drinkers, both of their lives wrecked by alcohol. I glanced at my watch and realised the time. I was just about to announce my departure when I noticed Tristen was crying. Sympathy washed over me as I put my arm around him.

"It's going to be alright, Tristen,"

I comforted him for a while until he left. I started to run home again. That had to be the most depressing run ever.