Breaking point

The Beginning

It all began with a simple phone call one night after dinner. "Tyler," my father hollered up the stairs, "it's for you. It's Elizabeth, and she sounds upset." As I came downstairs to pick up, my scowl increased, showing how bleak my attitude was. I was tired and had looked forward to a tranquil evening at home, not another futile adventure with Elizabeth.
Thirty minutes later, however, Elizabeth's silver Mustang convertible swung into our driveway, and Elizabeth was leaning on the horn before the car became to a complete stop. Grabbing my coat from the couch, I jaunt out of my front door with all the enthusiasm of a man going to stand in front of a firing squad.
"What do you want Elizabeth?" venom seeping out with every word I spoke.
"I just wanted to speak to you about Madison."It was evident that she was startled at my tone, but tonight wasn't the night to deal with her nagging.
"Goodnight Elizabeth." I slammed the door in her face and stalked up to my room. Peering out of the window, Elizabeth was visible, walking to her car, head lowered and arms crossed over her chest. She opened the driver's side door, turned back to gaze at the front porch and then got in her car. The soft purr of her engine came to life as she backed out of my driveway and drove away. Shortly after her departure from my house, my phone rang, filling the quiet room with the loud sound of the iPhone's electrifying Marimba ringtone, it was Elizabeth. Declining her call, my finger slid up and set my phone to do not disturb. Setting my phone on my nightstand and plugging my phone in to charge I begin getting ready for bed, slipping my right foot out of my right shoe and then my left foot from my left shoe. I laid down on my bed, pulling my covers over my head and closed my eyes, hoping to fall into a swift, deep sleep.
I declined the phone call and heard a screeching sound outside of my house. Peering out of the window I see it. A car, upside down with a body lying in the street. Rushing downstairs and out of my front door to the street; I approach the body. It's a girl she looked familiar, but I couldn't identify her face. I reach into my back pocket for my phone and dial 911. It rings and rings, but no one picks up, this isn't right.
--- I wake up to a knock on my door. "Come in," I shouted groggily, still shook from my dream.
"Tyler, we need to talk," concern laced through my mother's voice.
"What about?" Was I in trouble? Everything I have ever done wrong in my life raced through my head. Did she find out that I got in trouble last week in school? Or how I snuck out the night before? Did she find out about how I ate a grape in the grocery store when I was young?
"Elizabeth, dear," her voice was soft like she was afraid to break me. What could she want to talk about?
"I don't want to talk about her." I snapped at her viciously, slightly relieved I wasn't in trouble.
"It's important, Tyler." She retaliated my saucy attitude.
"What about her, what could be so important that you had to wake me up?"
"Elizabeth got into a car accident; a drunk driver hit her. She wasn't wearing a seatbelt and when her car flipped into the ditch her body flew out. She had many deep gashes from glass and no one found her until just an hour ago." A tear rolled down my mother's face, her voice cracking as she continued with the story, "they say she bled out." I stared at her blankly. How coincidental that a girl got in a car accident in my dream, she had to be trying to scare me, punishing me for being so cruel to my best friend just hours earlier.
"Thank you for informing me, goodnight." She sauntered out of my room with a horrified look and closed the door.