A.N: This epilogue kills me. *goes to cry in a corner*
There is this famous quote; it's definitely over-used but I like it.
"Sometimes we survive by forgetting."
And it seems for quite a few months, I stopped surviving. Each day was like a countdown; waiting until it was over, so then I could go home and try to forget my unfortunate life.
The accident had scarred me. Like a wound. But, the only way a wound can heal, is if you stop touching it. And, people helped me stop touching my wound.
Dr Chris, Shauna, Murphy and maybe even Christopher. These people helped me stop surviving and begin thriving.
I could've easily stopped. Just kept reminding myself of the tragic night, where I lost my old self. Kept replaying it in my head, on loop.
Then, one day, I let go completely. I broke free. That was the day I truly found Bradley Monse.
Because he was never a jock, or the guy sitting at the head of the cafeteria. Bradley Monse was the clumsy guy, the guy who was awkward as hell, the guy who was a total misfit.
Over the journey, we always lose a few people. Unfortunately, we lost Isaac to heaven, Dr Chris to California where he's starting up a new charity to help teenagers deal with trauma and Shauna two states over to Harvard (because she's way smarter than us.)
Murphy and I are sticking to reforms college for now, and Isla's going to an Arts college near here to reignite her violin career.
Oh, and she's beautiful as ever.
Her hair has now been cropped short, just brushing her shoulders and I always intricately weave flowers into her little braids.
When I first felt the sensation of trauma fall over me like a blanket, my hands clammy on the steering wheel of a car I wasn't fit to drive, I never thought I'd meet her.
And in some ways, I so glad I crashed into her that night, because never meeting Isla Woodley, the girl who makes me laugh, cry and ultimately happy, is a thought I can't stand to bear.
So, here we are. Standing in an odd football-shaped circle around a cake that reads: 'Happy End Of Support Group' and signifies the end of this particular journey. Which I'm also terrified of eating because it has been baked my Christopher (judging by his green-tinged biscuit making skills, I'm in for a treat.)
I guess there is one last thing I have to say to you, reader.
And that is, goodbye.
YOU ARE READING
After the Crash ✓
Teen Fiction"It's day 10, Isla. I wish you would wake up. I've lost everything and you're the only person who understands." Bradley Monse used to have everything. He was the star basketball player. He dated the most popular girl. He had good grades and friends...
