Heart Shaped Keys

Chapter 1

Della

Life has a way of doing things. In the game it sets itself up as, you are either  dealed the greatest, or the crappiest cards you could ever recieve; there's no in between. My deck is full of crappy cards that I'd trade in a heartbeat, but it's a well known fact that you can't control what happens in your life, so surprise! I can't control mine. But sometimes, we've got to find the greatness in the crappy cards; the greatness that might just be exactly what you need. What I needed right now was my sister. As she lied in her chestnut coffin, her arms crossed plainly across a bunch of fresh daisies a bundle of tears kept my cheeks company. Haylie had been my best and well, only friend in the entire world. The millisecond that her head flew the windshield, my new life began. One where all I had left to comfort me was her records and her old piano that Dad threatened to sell a week before the crash.
I wept in silence as her casket gracefully dropped into the hole that had been dug just for her, next to people that she can relate to. A hand slid over my shoulders.
"You know, she was probably the best person you could ever know. We were lucky to have her for the time we did, you especially." Said Dad, his eyes red and squinted. I nodded and he led me away from her lifeless body as the grave diggers began to throw shovels of dirt over the shiny chestnut lid. The time we had her should've been longer. I thought to myself. I slid into the driver's seat and turned the key in the ignition.  This is gonna be one bumpy ride.

The stoplights seemed to go faster than usual, but that was most likely because I ran every red light. I guess I was sort of hoping they might end up in the same place as my sister, but at the same time, wishing that I wouldn't. I needed something that could take my mind off of everything, and fast. I took the time to actually follow the stoplight and searched through my CDs. My emotional taste on music came in handy in times like this, and so did the voice of a certain blonde, who my sister told me was one of the best artists of our time. His name? Tom Odell, Thomas Peter Odell to be exact. I popped in the CD and cranked the stereo as loud as it could go, which wasn't very loud at all. I skipped through the first few tracks until I found Heal, and oh how I wanted him to come and heal me.