Random Shit

5 Stages of Grief

A story I wrote for ELA class. Feel free to edit the mistakes and suggest something. Help me get an A+

"Olivia watch out!" I exclaimed as everything faded to darkness. Sweat beholds my body as I flutter my eyes open from a dream in which the lifeless body of my best friend haunts my memory. This was the twenty fifth dream I had of her since she was declared dead on the spot. Each of the dream involved myself as I tried to warn her about the upcoming truck that swerved into our lane. No matter how loud I screamed or how determined I was to grab the steering wheel, the truck had already made contact with Olivia's newly bought Mercedes Benz. A part of me was relieved knowing that it was only a dream but another part of me is pounded by sorrow realizing that everything in that dream already happened in real life.

I take a glimpse at the digital clock in my nightstand. 3 AM, 3 hours of sleep, it's a new record. As usual after a dream, my body refused to let me go back into slumber. I decided to visit Olivia's grave as usual. Nothing and no one was stopping me. That was before my mother appeared at the bottom of the stairs with sympathy and concern portrayed in her face.

"Blair, this is not healthy anymore," She frowned when I decided to roll my eyes and walk pass her. "Blair, please," she grabbed my wrist. "Said the woman who spent almost her entire life drowning in prescription pills." I snapped. She avoided my gaze as tears started to surface on her piercing grey eyes. Without saying anything else, I stormed off into the dark Holdensworth street. My mother's pleading calls faded into the background.

I paid no care to the cold summer breeze as I took apathetic steps towards my destination. 300 more steps. I hear a startling noise from a dark alleyway approximately ten steps away from me. I disregard the noise and started running towards the traffic light. I could've easily used my car but ever since that horrific night, I couldn't bare myself to drive one, fearing that I might suffer the same fate that Olivia did.

That wouldn't be so bad would it? Olivia deserved to live . Whereas, the only thing I excelled at was at failing. Olivia had too many good things going on in her life. Including, a scholarship to Princeton, a supportive boyfriend, a happy family. There was a good future set for her. Suddenly, her perfectly planned future came to an end thanks to a middle aged alcoholic who decided to drink and drive. I have no sympathy for him or for his family.

Now, my best friends stands a foot away from me, six feet under. I occupied the grass beside her tombstone. Even in the darkness, I could read the words inscribed on the tombstone. Olivia Fitzpatrick 2000-2017. I could feel the tears threatening to fall any moment.

"It's been one month, three weeks and four days since it happened," I muttered. "Almost two months without your awful puns and dad jokes." A sad smile surfaced on my face. In that same moment, a teardrop rolled down my cheek. I could feel the unpleasant clench in my heart as I stared at Olivia's picture. Her  sandy blonde hair was tied in a high ponytail this is matched with a smile that brought out her electric blue orbs. Remembering what she used to look like only disheartened me because I realized, I will never get the chance to see her or talk to her.

"I knew I'd find you here," A familiar voice called out. I snapped my head to Scott's direction. Immediately, I avoided his gaze. Scott and Olivia have little similarities despite being twins. The only common feature they shared was their electric blue eyes. For this reason, his eyes reminded me of Olivia's. "What are you doing here?" I inquired, the pain I was feeling slowly fading away and replaced by self consciousness. Not only was he Olivia's brother, he was also someone I developed Romaric feelings for. "Am I not allowed to visit my sister's grave?" He asked, raising a brow. I noticed the small changes on Scott's appearance despite the lack of light. An untamed beard resides on his face. In addition, his jet black hair stopped at his shoulders.

I didn't bother answering Scott's question. Instead, I stared at Olivia's picture. I could feel Scott's presence next to me. "How are you?" That was the question I dreaded the most. As usual I replied, "I'm fine." Scott doesn't look convinced. Deep inside, I was tearing myself apart. "I'm fine," I repeated. This time, the walls I built were slowly breaking. "I'm fine," I repeated once more in a shaky voice. At that moment, tears started streaming down my face. Scott embraced me. He didn't say a word and that was enough for me.

It felt good to let my emotions out. I felt a moment of peace for the first time since Olivia's death. Now, I was silently sobbing against Scott's chest. He whispered encouraging words and left kisses on the top of my head. I felt safe in his arms and I didn't want to leave. Not long after that, sleep decided to pay me a visit.

Broken hearts started to mend that day. How long will it take? Who knows? What I do know, is that one cannot get over someone's death. They just learn to live without them. Fear not, they are not forgotten. They remain in someone's heart for the rest of their lives.