Can you hear it?

Volumes.

This silence speaks volumes.

I'm scared to go on because I'm scared I will become you. Dead. I'm scared the depression will worsen. I'm scared that I can't handle life, without you. I'm alone. In a room full of people all I feel is loneliness. I've been drained of all my senses. Memories are all I have. They are all I see.

Flashback

"The caller you have dialed is not available please leave a message after the beep. Beeeeep...."

"Ames, I know it seems like we've been avoiding each other but I miss you. Call me when you get a chance. By the way, it's Coop!" I recited into my phone.

     It's around 6 o'clock and I was getting ready for dinner. My phone rang. I looked at my caller ID and saw your mom was calling. Thinking maybe you had lost your phone or something I picked up.

"Hello?"
"Cooper, honey..." sighed Mrs. Duncan.
"What's up Mrs. Duncan?"
"Honey, its Amy! She was in an accident." She all but sobbed out.
"Wh-What do you mean? Is she okay?" I trembled.
"Some drunk ran a red-light and hit her. We are in the way to the hospital now!" She hurried out.
"Which one???" I asked frantically.
"Mercy Gen" she whimpered.
"I'll be there as soon as I can! Thank you for calling me. Im sure she is going to be okay!" I wasn't sure if I was assuring Mrs. Duncan or myself.
"I hope. Be careful dear." She mumbled as she disconnected the call.

My mind is running wild as I take the stairs two at a time. I didn't have time to stop and explain my hurry to my mother, only mumbling a short, "I'll  call you," as I hurried out the front door.

End of flashback.

I remember exactly how I felt that night when your mom called me. I was numb. It was as if my body was on auto pilot, yet my mind kept running in circles. It was making me sick, but I couldn't think about me right now. You, Amelia Duncan, were the ONLY person on my mind in that moment and I didn't know if you were dead or alive. This tragedy spoke volumes for how much you meant to me.  

As I raced down the hall to every waiting room in Mercy General, all I could think about was how you hated hospitals. You'd say "Over my dead body, am I going to rot away in some sterilized room with the smells of vomit and jelly in the air!" You always had a way with words, Ames, because now this could be over your dead body. I spot your parent's and they look horrified. Your mom is visibly shaking and her eyes are as bloodshot as every pot-head you rejected. Your dad doesn't even look like your dad. The dark featured man that always made us Mickey Mouse shaped pancakes every Saturday morning was as pale as a ghost. You're all they had Ames. The look on their faces tell me everything I need to know. 

You're gone and that's when silence began to speak volumes.