Mine for a Night

One (Mitch)

two years later

It's been a particularly long day especially after the news I received about the passing of a good friend of mine. Her name was Kirstie and she may as well have been my sister. Kirstie and I did everything together and I'm just thankful to have had such a long and prosperous friendship with her.

I'm going through a box of memories, remembering all the amazing times Kirstie and I had together when I come across a picture of a familiar blond that I haven't seen in ages. Scott. What ever happened to the blond boy who changed my life? I haven't heard a thing about or from him since the day we met.

I pull out some Polaroids as I push aside the pictures I had printed out of Scott and I. They're from my childhood, the first day of school when I met Kirstie. I feel the tears well up in my eyes as I hold the stack of photographs close to me and hope with everything in me that Kirstie will come back. She was-is my everything. Without Kirstie I wouldn't be where I am today.

When Jeremy called me, the sound of tears in his voice, I knew something had happened. He said that she was driving home and had gotten hit head on by a drunk driver. She was killed instantly. The driver of the car put up a fight as he lead the police on a high speed chase before they finally caught him when he took a sharp right turn and flipped his car. He was fine. After all he did, he came out perfectly fine without a scratch, but my best friend had to suffer from his actions.

I try to calm myself as my phone dings with a text from Jeremy. It's arrangements for her funeral. I can't stand to think about her being gone any longer so I throw my phone against the wall and scream out in anger. The photos of Kirstie and I are haunting me and I can't stand being in this house anymore. I throw on a random pair of shoes and take off on a walk. Everything in Arlington reminds me of her. Everything reminds me of our dreams to make it big in Hollywood and our plans to travel the world. Everything reminds me of that stupid smirk she had whenever I would talk about Scott. The fact I'll never see either one of them again kills me and I don't know what to do. I make my way to the bridge and just stand there. I think about all the happy times, all the sad times, all the mad times, all the good times, and the bad times.

I think back to the first day of high school. I hadn't come out to anyone yet, but somehow Kirstie already knew. She helped me through my first boyfriend and helped me get ready for my first date. She was by my side for my first prom, actually she was my prom date. She showed me the ropes to slow dancing and taught me how to appropriately flirt. She went with me the first time I dyed and seriously cut my hair. She held me during my first heartbreak and told me it would be okay, and it was. She promised me I would see Scott again someday even if it wasn't in the near future. She promised me I would find true love and I would have the family I always wanted. She taught me how to hold a note and made me fall in love with music. She had the voice of an angel and I just knew she would make it big someday. Kirstie never let anything bring her down, she always kept a smile on her face no matter what and I loved that about her.

Kirstie promised to take me to see the world and to be the sister I never had. Thankfully she did get to be the sister I never had, but Kirstie, I promise you that I will carry on your legacy and we will go see the world together.

When I was sixteen, Kirstie went with me to get my ears pierced. I didn't want to do it, but she insisted it was what all the cool kids did, and I obviously wanted to be a cool kid, so I went through with it and I didn't even regret it. A few months later, she bought me a little lock earring and I have worn it everyday since then. I feel as if I have a piece of her with me all the time now.

Kirstie took me on my first actual road trip. We went all over Southern California and it was perfect. I was with her when I road my first roller coaster at Disney Land. All of my memories somehow link back to Kirstin Taylor Maldonado.

It's getting late and I need to go home, but I can't even imagine walking back into the horrid house that Kirstie stayed with me in for so long. I can tell my hair is a mess from how many times I have ran my fingers through it, but I honestly couldn't care less at this point. The only thing I care about is Kirstie. I care about how some bastard murdered my best friend and got away from it without a single scratch. He gets the luxury of having a place to live, meals to eat, and people to talk to while my best friend is being prepared to be thrown six feet under the ground.

I grip onto the railing in front of me until my knuckles turn white, that's when I hear his voice behind me.