Over You

Growing up for me was simple. Anything I could ever ask for was handed to me on a silver platter. My dad worked for the CIA, so he was rarely around, other than his paycheck. My mom was a famous news anchor, Emilia Collins, so, there goes her attention. I was raised by nannies. Several different nannies. And I'm an only child. So, basically I was alone, except when I was in school.

High School was my kingdom. Everyone wanted to be my friend, every female that stepped foot in that school wanted me. Call me conceited, but I didn't give a shit then. I craved the attention, just to make up for the lack of it at home. I had several "friends" that never really gave a damn about me. All but one.

Drew Mines was my best friend. He was the only one that I ever really wanted around me for anything other than appearances. He dealt with all my bull shit, and didn't judge me for my aggregate ass. He was the brother I never had.

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"Bro! It's the party of the fuckin' year! You can't tell me that you don't want to go to this thing. It's gonna be the night of our life, and you want to pass this up?"

The end of the year party is the biggest one thrown throughout the year. Sure there are plenty of them to go to, but the one everyone waits for is the end. And Drew didn't want to go.

"I don't know man. I have a bad feeling about this." he argued.

"Oh come on! Every time you have a bad feeling, nothing goes wrong. You have a hunch, but I'm fine! Nothing is gonna happen. Come on, lets just go. "

He looked at me for a moment and sighed. "Okay, let's go I guess."

And that was it. We went to the party, got trashed, and all of his worries went away. By the time we left, I was so gone that I couldn't even think straight. I wasn't sure on Drew's condition, but I didn't think it was much better. He climbed into the drivers seat and I in the passengers. I almost fell out of the car a few times, but we eventually got on the road.

I could feel the car swerving slightly, the loud screech of the tires scraping the edge of the road. But that wasn't my problem. My mind was focused on the vastly approaching headlights that were headed straight towards us.

"Drew!!" I yelled just before everything went black.

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To this day, I have never forgiven myself for what happened to Drew, and I never will. It was my fault. I dragged him out to that party, even when he said he didn't feel right about it. I'm the one that caused his death.

I was seventeen years old, Drew the same, and he lost his life. The past seven years have been the worst of my life. Every time I see alcohol, I think about that night. When I see teenagers out drinking it makes me think of that night. Everything reminded me of the night I lost my best friend. I haven't been back to my home town, or even home state in six years. Four of those years spent in college, and the other two just getting my job together.

I graduated with a business management degree, and I now own my own store, Abercrombie & Fitch. The business is great, and it keeps me busy enough not to think about anything and so I don't go crazy.

After Drew's funeral, I went downhill. My reputation went out the damn window. I began to drink almost every night, slept with a new girl every weekend. I became rebellious and got tattoos and pierced my lip. It was amazing how I kept my grades up enough to get into college. When I got to college, I calmed down a bit considering all the work I had to do. I didn't have time to party every night or think about anything. I grew up a lot, and graduated.

Now I'm a successful millionaire 24 year old. And I don't know what to do with myself.

I live all alone in my Beverly Hills mansion, that is really to big for me, and I don't know what to do. This is certainly not how I pictured my life ending up.