Days (oneshots)

Coward

Adeline Miller turned the corner, nodding her head to a jazzy beat with her earbuds on. She walked past her best friend's, Natalie Harris, house and decided to pay her a visit. They'd both been busy with finals, so they hadn't hung out in awhile.

She trekked to the side of the house, crouching so she could scare her best friend by bursting through the kitchen door. She dug a spare key out of her pocket and froze when she heard yelling voices coming from an open window.

Adeline subtly crawled over to the voice, and she immediately recognized Natalie's voice. Sobbing.

"Dad-"

"I'm not your fucking father anymore!"he yelled, and it seemed to shake the walls of the house.

Natalie pleaded desperately through tears, "Please, let me explain, it was an accident, please..."

He landed a punch to her stomach, "Get away from me. I didn't raise you to get knocked up by some fuckboy at 16! You're a fucking disgrace!" 

She fell to the ground sobbing loudly, "You don't understand! He's not like that! Please, I just need some time, and-"

"Let me go, you whore."

"Dad, I'm sorry! I'll fix this, I swear. I can even...I'll drop out. Please just let me-"

Glass shattered to the ground, "Fuck no! You're not keeping that little shit of a baby. You're such a fucking slut, I fucking hate you."

Adeline covered her mouth, terrified for her best friend. Why didn't Natalie tell her? She was crying, in pain, emotionally and physically.

And she wasn't doing shit to help her.

"No fucking way."her father kicked at the girl's stomach, "Get out of my house by afternoon, you fucking whore. You're no longer a Harris."

Natalie cried out in pain, and satisfied with his torture, he left the room, slamming the door shut.

Adeline waited until Natalie stopped crying enough to gather herself and leave the room before straightening. She walked up to the kitchen door, keys in hand. Her hand shook violently as she inserted the key.

Then, taking it out, she ran away.

Coward.

Coward.

Coward. 

Coward.

Coward.

Coward.

Fucking coward. It repeated in her head like a mantra as she tripped over the sidewalk, hands bleeding as she got up to start running again.

What kind of friend was she? Running away because she was afraid of Natalie's father? Why couldn't she help? Why was she such a fucking coward?

She ran and ran and ran until she reached her home. Her home. With two loving parents and a nice older brother. How many times had she complained about their clingy nature to Natalie?

How many times did Natalie laugh when her home was breaking apart? How many chances did Adeline ignore about Natalie's unhappiness? How many times did she ignore all those signs pointing to dysfunction?

You're a terrible friend, she told herself. You didn't notice. You ignored. You didn't help her. You left her there to cry by herself. You coward.

When she got home, she gulped, rushing to her room. She'd send a text. A text. Simple.

Her hands trembled as she texted Natalie, Hey. How's it going? Wanna hang out?

It took a few minutes, but the three loading dots appeared on her screen. Adeline stared at them for about three minutes before two messages popped up, one after the other.

Sorry.

Busy.

She breathed a sigh of relief.

Coward.

The next day, Monday, Natalie wore a turtleneck, scarf and smile, even though to was late May already.

"How was your weekend?"

"It was okay. I had a lot of homework."

Adeline smiled, knowing full well that Natalie was lying. But she was too scared to confront her best friend about what she'd seen.

Coward.

Days passed and Adeline didn't tell Natalie anything. Not to get help or anything. Why? Because she was so fucking afraid of confrontation.

Next Tuesday, Natalie Harris, 16 years old, jumped off the light tower. Dead on impact. The baby in her stomach dead too.

You should've said something.

You should've done something.

You should've told her. 

You should've told someone.

You should've...

You should've...

But you didn't. You fucking coward.

Adeline let those thoughts rush through her head as she sat stone-faced in the front row of the church. Under the hood of that coffin was the battered body of her best friend. She was dead because of her.

Because of you. 

Because you were a coward.

You're a fucking coward.