Gain to Lose

Prologue

As I finish packing the last of my things, it was now time for my parent's room. I had been trying to avoid their room since the accident. I've had no sleep since I found out that my Mum and Dad had died in the crash, I blame myself because if I hadn't asked them if I could go to a party that night then my Dad would have not took his eyes off the road and therefore would have seen that reckless driver drive right for us.

I was the lucky one. If i hadn't asked them, then and there at that moment of time then they would be here today. When I found out that they both were dead nothing seems to matter except my denial. I hadn't cried but inside my heart felt like it was broken into two half's and nothing in the world could fix it, at that point in time. One week after their death it was time for their funeral.

During the burial, everyone gave their condolences and farewells and I still hadn't cried as I wasn't one for showing my emotions. It was time for the wake but I didn't feel up to it because all I wanted to do was go home and curl up into a ball and cry but in the back of my head my subconscious told me to be strong. I left the wake early as I wasn't wanting to celebrate my parent's death and that the fact they have moved on to a better place or so what people told me. As soon as I got in the house, I tried to rest but that was no use because everytime I close my eyes all of the events from the past week comes flooding back and hits me like a ton of brick.

So instead I start to pack up the house because I no longer wanted to be here. I couldn't bear being in the house as old memories of my mum and dad fighting, arguing and disagreements on what I can and cannot do. I smile as the last word from my dad's mouth were

"You will always be my little princess".

I found some family photos and began to remember the good times along with the bad times, I didn't know I was crying until some tears were dropping onto the photo I was holding. It was a picture me, my mum and dad at the Brighton beach in England, I think to myself I'm never going to see them again.

Time goes by and I'm still looking at the photo, then there is knock on the door. I set the photo down; I quickly walk into the hall and look in the mirror. I realised that I still have the clothes I wore to the funeral and my eyes are all red from crying, the first time I've cried for them. I open the door to a tall handsome young man with short brown hair, tanned skin that matches dark blue eyes. I look at him from head to toe and then back up, our eyes lock and then I realise who it is.

"Matthew," I say unsurely

"Ashley," he embraces me into a tight hug.

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Edited...

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