Heartbreak

I Called 911 Already

That night I kept my door closed.

"Cassy?" Mitch asked through the door. It was well past one, about an hour after I got home, my head was buried in my tear soaked pillow.

"What?" I pulled myself off my bed and waddled to the door. I leaned on the door frame and brushed stray tears from my eyes.

"Drew's truck is still there," he sighed.

"What?" I flung the door open.

"You heard me," he nodded.

"Oh god," I wanted to scream and cry again but, I couldn't. Instead I threw on a pair of slipper boots and ran out into the hallway in my flannel P.Js. Marching down the hallway, plunging my finger onto the elevator button was the easy part. Walking through the parking lot was hard, it felt like trying to swim in jell-o, each step I took just didn't seem to move me. Finally, I was there, in front of his car door. Slowly I tapped on it, but no reply came. Thinking he may have fallen asleep, I opened the door. He was laying in the drivers seat of his car, passed out. His body was shivering violently and his breathing was shallow, but slow.

I panicked when I saw the bottle of vodka in his hands.

I dug around in the truck until I found his phone.

"911. What's you emergency?" the operator asked.

"I think my friend has alcohol poising," I shrieked.

"Where are you, we will send an ambulance." I told her the address then hung up and dialed a new number.

"Drew, what the fu-" Mitch started, I stopped him.

"It's me you asshole. Come down to the truck," I then hung up the phone and threw it to the passenger side. Tears rolled down my eyes as I grabbed Drew's wrist. He still had a pulse, I let my hand travel down to his hand, I held it tight, hoping he was aware of my presents.

"What happened?" Mitch yelled as he ran toward me. I pointed to the bottle and he pulled me into a hug.

"I called 911 already," Mitch put his phone back in his pocket.

Soon the ambulance came and pulled Drew onto a gurney and into the back of the ambulance. Mitch and I followed it in Drew's truck while I phoned Drew's mom off his phone.

"Drew! Why aren't you home?" Mrs. Turnner asked.

"Mrs. Turnner, Drew," I paused and held back the tears that threatened to fall, "he is in the back of an ambulance on his way to the hospital. We broke up around midnight and his truck was still in my parking lot at one. I went down and found him."

I started sobbing historically into the phone. I couldn't breathe so I handed Mitch the phone. My hands were shaking and I felt like I was about too faint.

"Yes, Mrs. Turnner we are on our way right now," Mitch said into the phone. Once he hung up I grabbed the bottle of vodka and took the last sip in it. It burned as it went down my throat, but it calmed me. The pain helped, it gave me something else to focus on.

"What the hell? You have never had alcohol in your life!" Mitch grabbed the empty bottle and threw it out the window. "If this is what moving in with mom is going to do to you and Drew then I won't allow it."

"You can't overrule mom! You can't tell me what to do either! I am sixteen, I can choose who to live with!"

"I have looked after you these past few weeks. I helped you out of dad's house. I gave you a place to stay! This is how you repay me? Drinking and moving away?"

"It was one drink!" I yelled, tears still rolling down my face.

"We'll talk later," he grunted. We pulled into the hospital parking lot. I stepped out of the truck onto the wet pavement.

Every step I took toward the building felt like a million years.

***

It's short, sorry. I would make it longer but I don't really want to make it longer but I didn't want to give you an emotional overload.