Those Worse Off Than You

I ran quickly down the street to her front yard, where I collapsed at the foot of her lawn, calling until her parents ran out onto the grass. I knew they didn't like me much, and they must not have known what I was yelling about at first; not before they came closer. Her mom screamed and kneeled infront of us as her father ran back in the house for the phone.

I stayed curled up in a ball over her, not letting go as I fanally began sobbing. Crying; almost hyperventalating. Her mother just cried, quietly mumbling small things to herself.

The ambulence came in what seemed like seconds; lifting her from my grasp to drag her away. Carefully placing her in an ambulence, taking her away as her mother stepped in.

What had I done? It was all my fault. She had came looking for me! I shouldn't have run off; it was so immature! All because of a stupid fight. Was that even why? Or was it a distant memory that had set me off? Who cares? Now someone else had to pay. Why? Why her?

"Common; I'll take you to see her," her father said. He was standing in front of me, holding out his hand to help me up as if I were one of his best friends.

I couldn't imagine what I looked like; wrinkled t-shirt, dirty jeans, worn out shoes. With a wet dirty face coverred by sweat soaked strands of hair. I was a mess.

"It's alright. Everything is going to be fine," he said, lifting me from my pitiful station, leading me towards the car.

"I shouldn't have run off; it's all my fault," I mumbled.

"It's alright. Settle down now, or you're gonna end up hurting yourself."

Hurting myself? How so? In what way was that statement portrayed?

He openned the door, sitting me in the passenger seat, as he went around to get in the driver seat, turning on the ignition as he slowly drove down the street.

I was surprised it wasn't raining. It would be raining it this were a movie. I wished this were a movie. But it wasn't. I tried comforting my shaky self; trying to look under control- but I couldn't.

Along the way, he kept asking me all these questions. Questions I didn't know the answer to. Questions I, myself wish I knew the answers to. But I didn't... and I couldn't think straight anyways.

I want to do something; anything: drugs, alcohol, pills, cutting. Anthing that would just make this go away. But I couldn't. Not after I had been doing to good, Jayde would be so disapointed in me... I couldn't. It was tempting... but even if I did, I wouldn't even know where to find them. Would I? I'm sure I could figure it out...

Oh God...