jen

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"leave calum! i don't even want to look at you!" ella yelled, pushing against my chest. her tiny hands pushed me with force and the thought of her being so upset with me made my heart ache.

"baby please, hear me out!" i said, looking down at her. i reached my hands out as she looking down at the floor with a pained expression. her eyes slowly drove them to mine, anger mixed inside of her beautiful blue eyes.

"i wish it was you that died in there." her words echoed in my mind, even months after the incident.

it should have been me

it should have been me.

ella had reached out to me after she said that. she would text and show up at my house pleading for me to accept her apology and at least talk to her. she would punch my arm and slap my chest when all i did was stare at my wooden floor. for some reason i couldn't find the energy to open my mouth or even think properly. i could barely get out of bed in the morning, i had to push myself until it hurt.

eventually ella gave out. she left with a "wow calum, you're fucked up in the head!" and a slam of my beach house door.

maybe she thought i would cry, maybe go running after her like a love sick school boy.

but i couldn't.

it should have pained me that the girl i once knew told me that she wished i died instead of her wing girl, which was my best mate. her name was jen. only way i can describe jen is sunshine. she was complete utter sunshine in my eyes.

jen had been my rock since elementary school when it all started.

the bullying.

"ew, asian! wing chong!"

"i know i'm not bringing MY dog to school!"

"hey don't you work at the chinese food?"

and lots of laughs. lots and lots of laughs.

i would go to the restroom and cry. big ol' calum, crying because of stupid immature making fun of his ethnicity. but of course that's what you think, since you haven't dug deeper. my mom was a drunky that made her home on the blood red couch in our snug sydney apartment. she would wreak of booze and liquor, the strong smell that i'm one hundred percent burned half of my nose hairs off. she would drink until she was either throwing up her beverage, couldn't even bear to keep her head lifted to watch tv, or when she had no more energy or control to curse and throw things at me. that is my mother for you. there's nothing more that i ever wished for was to have a mother. a mom. it broke my heart, completely shattering it into pieces every night while i cried and rubbed the places on my body that had injuries from her.

oh, and my poor dad.

my dad.

my dad was a workman. he was where our money was, and he also was the supplier for my mum. this was everyday until he finally got up and left. before did leave, he patted me on the shoulder with a sorry 'i love you son' and two hundred dollar bills. assuming they were for me.

i never seen him after that. my mum didn't know what happen, she was passed out when he left her sorry self. i'm still convinced that she's never off the roller coaster of being drunk, and that's made her think that my dad's still at the office waiting to come him to his wife and his son.

but he never did and she never got sober.

anyways, back to jen.

jen.

fifth grade, jen sat down by me at the swing set. her long brown hair waved underneath her shoulders and her big round eyes looked at me with curiosity.

"what's this?" she said, poking the purple bruise on my arm. from my mother, of course.

"it's a bruise, what do you think?" i said, obviously is pain.

"i'm sorry, calum." she giggled softly.

"you know my name?"

"of course, calum."

for the rest of the years, it was jen wild and calum hood. her parents always let me crash on the couch. the wilds are the only one who knew about my life.

the only ones.

finally, when jen and i turned eighteen and graduated, we decided to move to los angeles california. and we did just that.

we flew there from australia. i remember, she was so scared to fly because she thought that we would crash and fall into the ocean and die.

but that wasn't how my jen died.

we got our own beach house. we split rent and grocery money. it was the life, and i was living it with my best friend.

until the day.

july 17, 2014 at 2:56 p.m my jen was announced dead.

i stared at her lifeless body as i felt mine slowly shutting down, blood gushing from my cracked head and my body was scraped. but i got the pleasure of living and jen died.

i still remember how it happened. we were driving to a book store so i could buy her some for her birthday. she was so excited.

i was on the runway when an eighteen wheeler came through. i looked to my side, which was the passenger side and saw that the large machine was not stopping. and it wasn't going to.

jen was smiling at me. i remember. she saw my expression, then looked out the window to her death. oh jen,  why did you look?

her scream was ear shattering. it all happened in slow motion, our car flipping and then the ambulance came. i lost so much blood, my vision became severely blurred and my heart beat was starting to slow.

but i didn't die.

jen did.

i screamed for her when i woke in my hospital bed. jen was in my dreams and she still is.

i swear that i can hear her in the wind when i go out for a surf,  she sings for me. jen loved to sing. i yell up above for her to give me a signal, i reach for her.  i remember the sound of her voice but i don't remember what we talked about. it doesn't matter, that's a waste of time.

when i'm sleeping, i can hear her dancing outside in the halls. i'm always listening.

i eat her favorite ice cream expecting her to sit down and giggle for me to share. but that's suffocation. 

then i hear her singing to me in the wind.

i swear i swear, i swear.

it's been almost three years since jen died. jen was going to be 21. i remember, she was going to try her first win cooler that night. we had it all planned out.

it was the night that i was going to tell her how much i loved her.

but jen died.

broken c.h au //COMPLETEDWhere stories live. Discover now