Chapter Twenty-Four

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Patrick

There's a hole where my heart should be. Maybe not literally, but that's what it feels like. My heart that was beating and pumping away last night was ripped out of my chest and now it feels lifeless, like it isn't even there. All that's left is just a hollow cut out. I don't want to be alive right now, and I know that seems a little bit irrational, but it's not. I'm the one that killed Ella, and nobody can tell me differently. Even her grandfather said it. If it weren't for me being so caught up in what everyone thought about her then she would be right next to me. Maybe we would be laughing about her obsession with celebrities, or my obsession with Superman. We would be doing anything but this, that's for sure. Me walking along the empty streets at four in the morning because my girlfriend just died in a car accident was far from what I expected to be doing.

That's the shitty thing about life though. You never know when it's going to be your last day on earth. You walk around and you pay attention to earning money, or going shopping, or talking to your friends, but death is probably the last thing on your mind because let's face it, nobody likes to ever think about it. We never think about it until someone close to us isn't here anymore, and the worst way it hits us is when someone passes away unexpectedly. It wasn't like I had someone who was on life support and I had a chance to tell them my final words. I didn't get that with Ella. All I could do was imagine them in my mind and let the everlasting sentences float throughout my head, never seeming to go away.

Drew seems beyond irritated standing there in shorts and a t-shirt, his hair ruffled up and going in all different directions. He throws his hands up when he sees me and asks what is so urgent, and when he asks that it makes the anger I'm holding inside of me increase that much more. He deserves what's coming, and his eyes widen when I reach him, my fist coming into contact with his jaw before he has the time to say anything else.

Blood spatters onto the sand, but I don't care. I'm shaking from being so angry, from putting up with all of his bullshit, but mostly from all of them. He's the main reason I couldn't speak how I felt because of all of his snide comments and remarks. Ella would have been proud of me I think. I hope this is what she wanted.

"Dude, what the hell?" He groans in agony, holding the side of his face before he spits more blood out. "What the fuck was that for?"

"Ella died tonight. She died because she drove home from the party you made me go to!"

I'm crying now, not exactly caring that he's seeing me break down. When he hears what I said, he lets out a deep breath and looks up into the sky. I don't want to look up because it would make me think of her, and right now I can't think about her anymore than I already am.

"I didn't make you come, Patrick. I asked you if you wanted to, and fuck, I'm sorry that happened, but why are you so-"

"BECAUSE I LOVED HER!"

And then it's out, the sentence sputtering off of my lips at such a rapid speed. I just stare at him all wide-eyed and wait for his reaction, the weight of one thousand pounds seeming to be lifted directly off of my shoulders. I can only hope that Ella is watching wherever the hell she is because I finally did it. Ella, I loved you.

"I couldn't say it for the longest time Drew because you guys treated her like shit. You called her names, you laughed at her, you made fun of her. It was all because maybe she had a couple extra pounds? Do you realize how much of a fucking asshole you are? I couldn't stand up for her for the longest time, but now I'm doing it too damn late. You make me want to puke from how poorly you treat others. I'm going to pray for you though, and I hope you can change your life around and change your way of thinking because this is what you do to people. You push them to their breaking point."

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