I'm not sure what's going on but I was unable to title this story as Bruises so I had to change the name..
Three years. It's been three years since I lost my best friend, the person who meant the entire world to me. It still feels like it only happened yesterday, like pouring salt onto an open wound. Kristen's death bruised me to no end, almost like someone took a bat and beat me with it over 100 times.
You never realize how much someone means to you until they're no longer around; or how much you need them, how much you love them. At times I took Kris for granted and I don't know why, and now she's gone and there's no way I can tell her how important she actually was to me.
I woke up to my alarm clock blaring into my ear, I groan and roll over, slinging my arm over the snooze button. As I open my eyes, I'm blinded by the morning light pouring in through the window, I forgot to shut my curtains...again.
I hear a strange exchange of words coming from somewhere in the room,
"Dude, you're confusing reality with porn again."
I chuckle lightly at the words before I grab the remote and hitting the off button to the TV. Ah, Supernatural. I remember the times that Kris and I used to argue over who was better looking, Dean or Sam. I mean, yes, Sam has a cute face but Dean..oof.
I slide out of bed and into my bathroom, I grab a towel and run some warm water before stepping into the shower, I stand there, letting the water run down my back. Once I'm finished I get out, wrapping a towel around my waist and walks to my room.
I dash down the stairs once I get dressed, it's already 6:30 and I can't be late again. I grab my skateboard and open the door, I freeze as I hear an all to familiar, eerie voice say,
"Hello Tristen."
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Whiskey Lullaby
Teen FictionIt's been three years since Tristen lost his best friend. Ever since then, he's been drinking heavily, too heavily for his own comfort. He keeps digging himself a deeper hole of depression and he cannot get out of it. Is there a possible way for him...
