Why Me?

Chapter 3 On My Own

I wake up to the sun shining trough the window. I stand up and close the curtains. I walk back to my bed and pull the covers up to my chest. I turn the tv on and lower the volume.

REPORTER:

BREAKING NEWS. TWO BODIES WERE FOUND DEAD IN THE MAIN PARK OF SAN FRANCISCO THIS MORNIG. ROBERT AND JULIA DAWSON. THERE BODIES WERE LYING ON THE GROUND. THERE WERE NO SIGNS FOUND. NO TRACES OR ANYTHING. THE COPLE LOOKED LIKE THEY WERE ESCAPING FROM SOMETHING. WE THINK IT WAS AN ATACK. BUT WE STILL AREN'T SURE. ANY FAMILIY OR FRIEND OF THEM MAY COME VISIT THEM AT THE HOSPITAL ON ROAD 54. AS SOON AS WE FIND ANYTHING WE'LL LET YOU KNOW.

HAVE A NICE DAY. BYE

I can't believe this. By the time she finishes my eyes are filled with tears. My parents just got murdered. I knew I couldn't trust that son of a bitch.

I can't believe he did this to them. To me. Now I'm all alone.

How am I supposed to pay for collage. How am I going to pay for the house. The water. Electricity. The house bill.

I'm just 18. I don't have that kind of money. My life is ruined.

I walk to the closet and grab some skinny jeans and an over sized t shirt. I put them on and then I put my baby bleu converse on.

I quickly grab my car keys and run to my car. I get in and start the engine. I drive to the hospital and run to the counter.

"Hello, how may I help you?" A lady in her mid-thirty asks me.

"Um.. hi I'm here to see my parents. Robert and Julia Dawson"

"Room 15. Down the hall"

"Thank you"

I walk down the hall like she said and look for room 15. It's the last one.

I open the door and I almost faint at the sight if my father and mother in two separate beds both with a hundred machines stuck to they're bodies.

I feel my heart sink deeper into and endless hole. I feel like a hola has been punched trough my chest. One that can never be replaced.

My life was over. I did 't have any friends. I never really stood out in school. I don't have any family. They're all dead or hate me or don't live here.

All my relatives have a story. I don't really mind. I never really got to know them very well. I was usually always with my parents.

My heart chatters into a million pieces as I walk closer and hear the beep sound. Signaling they're dead.

I hold my mothers hand and then my fathers and I start to pray for them. They're here because off me.

I still don't know what I did but I know I did something bad. And for that I feel terrible. I regret anything I did in the past. I want to go back and fix things. But things aren't like that.

After a wile if being there I can't take it any longer. I walk out of the room sobbing.

I climb back in my car and drive home. Once I walk into my house i go directly into the bathroom. I lock the door and walk to the sink.

I splash water into my face. My mascara starts to run down my face and my eye liner.

I forgot to take my makeup of yesterday. I fell asleep yesterday thinking about my parents.

I look at myself in the mirror. My eyeliner in running down my face and I look weak.

My depression grew stronger by the minute. Thinking of many ways he killed them. Why he killed them. How he killed them.

I couldn't take all of it. All at once thrown in my face. I opened the cabinet door and took out a razor.

I flinched as the cold metal made contact with my warm skin. I slowly made a cut in my right arm. Then I kept on.

Wen I finally made myself stop I saw I had like 20 cuts. Ten in each arm. My harms were bleeding like hell and the floor and razor were covered in blood. And so were my hands.

I dropped the razor and it made a breaking sound. I hit my back with the wall as I slid down to sit.

I brought my knees to my chest and my head to my hands. I lowered myself putting my weight on my knees. I started to cry, and cry, and cry.

I eventually started to feel numb. I couldn't feel my arms. My legs. My hands. My fingers.

I felt so weak. So alone. So betrayed. I was depressed. Sad. Lonely.

So that means that

I'm on my own now.