Chapter One
"We gather here today to honor the life of Jordan Veronica Wesly," The pastor said. "The tragedy of Jordan's death will leave us with a great burden, but she will remain in our thoughts."
After Jorie's mother made her speech, her father made his, then I was called up to speak.
I can't do this, I thought.
"Jordan's friend, Chelsea has a few words," Pastor said. I walked slowly up to the podium in front of Jorie's open coffin. I saw her lifeless body, lying on a white silk cushion, with her arms folded across her chest. I looked away and walked the rest of the way to the podium with tears already forming.
"Jorie was my best friend. She was the person I could talk to whenever I needed to vent, she was the most important person in my life. But she's gone now. And...." I said with tears streaming down my face, "and she isn't coming back. I saw Jorie die, I saw her take her last breath and O couldn't save her. I never felt more hopeless in my whole life." I looked up as if looking into heaven, "Jorie, I'm sorry. I love you, I miss you."
*1 WEEK BEFORE*
"Come on, just jump!" Jorie told me, as we stood on the bridge together. We would jump of the bridge into the water and swim to shore, then do it again.
"This doesn't seem like a good idea," I said.
"Oh, don't be such a wuss. Come on," she said. "1.....2....." She added, holding out for the three. "Three! Go!"
We jumped. When we got into the water, it was freezing. I started laughing, expecting to see Jorie standing next to me, laughing too. She wasn't. I turned, and I didn't see her anywhere.
"Jorie?" I called. "Jorie!?" I was beginning to get worried but assured myself it was a prank. "Jordan Veronica Wesly, this is not funny," but as I moved into the deeper end of the water, I saw Jorie, gasping for air and trying to move to shore. The water must have been at least fifteen feet deep. I don't think she anticipated that kind of depth.
"Chelsea! Help!" I swam over to her as fast as I could but I was on the other side of the lake. I didn't get there fast enough. When I finally reached her, she was dead. I knew she was dead. I did CPR, I did everything I could but she never started breathing again. I picked up Jorie, and I carried her over to the bridge where our stuff was.
I pulled my phone out of my shorts on the ground and called 9-1-1.
I laid Jorie on the ground. I put my bag under her head, just in case she woke up.
"My name is Chelsea Winicer, I am on the Bengston Crossover Bridge, I need an ambulance, quickly."
When I hung up the phone, I threw it on the ground. I sat down next to Jorie's body. "This can't be happening..." I whispered. "This can't be happening!"
The ambulance arrived and they tried to save her, but of course they couldn't. She was gone.
Her parents arrived. I told the medics I would deliver the bad news.
"Chelsea is... She's dead." I said, not knowing a different way to put it. Chelsea's mother screamed. "I tried to save her, I really tried. I'm so sorry," I said and they both hugged me as they sobbed.
"I'm so sorry," I repeated.
I saw the medics pull the sheets over her face and wheel her into the ambulance.
That is a moment I won't forget for the rest of my life. I will relive that painful memory every single day until I die.
<*>
Jorie's funeral was two months ago. I've barely left my room. School was starting in a week. I would be a senior. So would Jorie, if she was still alive.
I blamed everyone, but mostly myself. I should have talked her out of it. I knew it was stupid but I didn't think she would die. I hated myself.
I haven't spoken to my parents, or my other friends, or anyone, really. I wondered how Jorie's parents were. I was afraid they would blame me like I blamed myself. I was the reason their only child was dead.
I wanted to die. I didn't understand why Jorie died and not me. Jorie was a better person than I was.
I went to my laptop and went to Jorie's Memorial page. People stopped talking about her death 2 weeks after it happened. It didn't matter to them anymore. They stopped caring. I never did.
I forced myself everyday to look at old pictures of the two of us, to keep memories alive.
But how can you keep a memory alive when half of the reason they exist is dead? You can't. You can remember it, sure, but it won't be the same. I want to be looking at the memories of my best friend, WITH my best friend, not in some pathetic attempt to believe she is still living.
What I believe? All that "she'll live on in my heart" bullshit, is just that. Bullshit. She's dead, and I'm responsible for her being dead. Nothing's gonna change that.
------
A/N
This is a new story obviously.
This is a made up story.
This is not meant to offend anyone. If it does, I'm sorry.
