When the Lights Go Out {complete first draft}

That Day

that day - a friday

Sometimes, when I've been away from home for a really, really long time and walk through my front door, a sudden happiness engulfs me, and my house feels, really and truly, like paradise. I realise now that I took advantage of having a roof over my head. My life was what it was, I can't change it. But I've seen what could have happened if anything about it had changed. And trust me, with some of the things I've witnessed, my life - and my home - was pretty perfect. 



                  I'm going to call it That Day. That Day was the last day that I went home. I made a series of mistakes – any second of the day could have been a mistake, really. I wanted to share my last day with you all, whilst I try and figure out what I did wrong, or why this was happening to me. Because in all honesty, I'm still here.



The last day I consciously walked this earth was a Friday. I got up and slung on some clothes. It was photograph day – but I didn’t plan on having my photograph taken. I just wanted to go out with my friends and get ready for the party that was happening after school.

                  I liked keeping my head down. I liked who I was, and I liked my friends. Well, most of them. The last day of my life, I lived like any other. I lived like it was a normal day, because, honestly, I thought I'd have a lot longer. I'll tell you exactly what I did wrong.

                  I'll tell you about That Day.



*


                  “Pick me up?”

                  “No.”

                  “Yes.”

                  “No, Vincent,” I said roughly. “It’s one in the morning.”

                  “So?”

                  “So,” I retorted, “I’m not getting out of bed to pick you up from a party.”

                  “But,” he said, sniffing, “you’re my girlfriend.”

                  “No.” I said again, determined. “Get Kendal to bring you home with whoever she’s getting a lift with.” I knew my sister had her license taken off her, but she always found a way to get someone to get her home.

                  “Kendal isn’t here,” Vincent said pointedly. “Shouldn’t you know that?”

                  Should I have known that? My sister had been acting weird these last few days, and because she’d broken up with her boyfriend recently, she did come home and lock herself in her bedroom but she’d been talking about Laura’s party for ages, they’d been friend once, I thought she would have gone. “Why didn’t she go?” I asked quickly. If this was about George, Vincent might have known, after all they were best friends, too. 

                  “Go and ask her,” Vincent snapped, obviously upset that I wasn’t going to pick him up.

                  “Forget it,” I said, sighing. “I’m going back to bed.” I put the phone down, leaving Vincent to figure out a way to get home. He’d probably call his mother; she’d happily pick him up at one o’clock in the morning. I loved Vincent, don’t get me wrong, but I’d purposely not gone to this party because I wanted the rest. I was tired, all the time, recently. I didn’t have the energy to go.