The Girlfriend

She Had the World [o1]

*AUTHOR'S NOTE*

I hope you guys enjoy reading this just as much as I loved writing it. (:

Claimer: Mine. This whole story is mine. Mine, mine, mine.

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Chapter One: She Had the World

Hi, I’m Sloane Marsh and I will be playing the role of “girlfriend” for this story. I don’t know when I turned into a bitch. I don’t think it was like a switch, like one day I was a nice person and the next I’m a bitch; I think it was more of a day-to-day process.

 Maybe it all started when my twin sister died. Or when my mother left me. Or when my father started drinking. But I’ll start with the day I was born.

 On April 17th, 1995 my sister, Allie, and I were born. We were born two months before we were due and there were some complications with our birth. Allie couldn’t breathe on her own and after I was born, my mother slipped into a three-week coma. After she awoke from the coma, she finally got to hold her beautiful, twin children. She then got the sad news that she couldn’t give birth to any more children. Something happened when we were born that messed up her reproductive system. She was slightly depressed but soon got over it because she had us...or so we thought.

In the home videos that my father recorded, it seemed as if she was faking a smile through each and every one of them. She always seemed distracted. She never was the kind of mother that picked her kids up form daycare with her arms wide open for a hug. She never was the kind of mother that talked to you for hours about anything. She never was the kind of mother that showed any affection towards her children. My mother was diagnosed with Postpartum Depression two years after Allie and I were born.

As for Allie; she could eventually breathe on her own and we were released from the hospital. But for the years to come, she was in and out of the hospital for tests. My mother and father were both struggling with trying to come up with money to pay for the bills. Allie had developed exercise-induced asthma. Everytime she tried to run, even if it was down the stairs, she would start wheezing.

May 9th, 2005; that was the day that me and her were running across the streets, trying to get to the Wawa so father could have more Gatorade. The street we were running across was the end of a four-lane highway. I had made it across, but Allie didn't. I remember her hand slipping from mine. I remember hearing the faint wheezing in the background before a squeak. I remember checking both ways; no cars were coming. Where had this one come from? Why was my sister underneath it?

I remember locking myself in my room, never wanting to face my parents ever again. They would never see their little Allie ever again all because of me. All because I didn't look back and pull her with me to the sidewalk. It's all my fault.

My mother's depression worsened. Some days she wouldn't even crawl out of bed. It didn't help that my father was always on business trips, trying to earn enough money to keep all three of us alive. I couldn't do anything to help my mother and my father didn't want to put her into a mental institution. Whenever we brought up the thought of therapy she would slowly shuffle out of the room.

April 17th the next year is when my mother left and when my father started drinking. I spent that day in my closet, covering my ears as I heard my father cry. In my head, I pictured a birthday cake with mine and Allie's names on it. I pictured twenty-two candles on there; eleven for me and eleven for Allie. I pictured both of us blowing out the candles after mother and father sang to us. I pictured us opening presents.

My next birthday, I tried to take my life. My father had lost his job, due to that fact that he didn't even show up anymore. He now deals drugs to make sure we have food on the table, clothes on our backs and a roof over our heads.

So my twelfth birthday, I had locked myself in the bathroom. I took out all the pill bottles from the cabinet and swallowed a mix of them. As I sat on the floor, waiting for the effects to take over, I started to think of what Allie would say about this. She would be disappointed; she would be more than that. She would hate me. She would want for me to live my life; for me and for her.

I then unlocked the bathroom door and ran for the phone, dialing 911.

"911, what's your emergency?"

"I...I just o-overdosed on p-p-pills. Please send an amb-b-bulence. H-h-hurry."

"Okay sweetie. What is your address?"

"562 W-w-willow H-hunt Dr-drive."

"Okay. An ambulence is on the way. Now listen to me. I want you to sit down and put your head between your knees. Take deep breaths and just wait for them to get there. They should be there in about 10 mi..." I did as she instructed. That year, I spent my birthday in a padded room after they had pumped my stomach.

When high school started, I became a mix between Allie and I. I dressed up the way I wanted to but acted the way Allie would have acted. Allie would have pushed herself into the popular crowd. Allie would have joined the tennis team. Allie would have taken all honors and AP classes.

I would have pushed myself into the skater crowd. I would have smoked pot everyday after school and went to outrageous raves every weekend. I would have taken all CP classes, barely passing.

But I needed to live the life of Allie. I needed to live for Allie. And that is why I am dating the "player" of the school. He is captain of the soccer team, the type of guy that Allie would have loved.

This is for you Allie.

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*AUTHOR'S NOTE*

I hope you guys liked this. I spent like, forever working on it. I wanted to make it perfect. (:

Please comment vote, add to you library, recommend this. Do whatever you please.

*Me-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named*