Collapsed

My face fell and my heart sunk. I felt like I had been sucker punched in the abdomen. Gone? She couldn't be gone. We were supposed to spend our lives together...forever. Tonight was supposed to be perfect...why this? Why now? Why her? I couldn't form the words to react, I'm sure my expression showed it all. I couldn't move, couldn't breathe or think. I felt like my world was spinning around me. Then it went black.

I woke up, staring at the living room ceiling. "He's okay!" I heard Kevin shout to my family, causing my throbbing head to pound harder.

I groaned and put a hand on my head, wincing, "What happened?" I looked up at him, reading the emotions on his face. As much as I wanted it to be true, this whole thing wasn't a dream afterall.

"You fainted..." Joe walked over and set some ice on my forehead, causing me to tremble slightly. "And you have a pretty nice shiner, too." He laughed weakly, trying to lighten the heavy feeling of the quiet room.

I bit my lip and sat up slowly, carefully. "So...she's really...gone?" I looked over at Kevin sitting on the foot of the couch. I didn't want to believe it, but I couldn't just pretend nothing happened.

Kevin closed his eyes and nodded, resting his hand on my knee. It looked like he had been crying, "I'm so sorry, Nick..." He whispered.

"No. Stop apologizing. She's not gone. You're lying!" I couldn't believe I was freaking out to them like this - it wasn't me. But, I didn't know what else to do. There's no way God could've taken such a perfect soul at such a young age. He couldn't do this to me! He was supposed to protect, not destroy! I got up and threw my ice bag onto the coffee table, ignoring the fact that the Ziplock busted and sent twenty something ice cubes in various directions. I ran up to my room and slammed the door, sinking against it. I'm not a crier. Carly used to make fun for that. If only she could see me now.

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TWO WEEKS LATER

The funeral was pure hell. I couldn't believe that the girl of my dreams laid in the casket just a few feet from me. But now I was home, and she wasn't with me. I was so used to her sitting beside me on my bed., holding my hand that hand ached for her touch. My ear was yearning for her random whispers. My heart yanked and my stomach knotted as tears flooded my eyes. I couldn't live this life without her. It was insipid and too much to handle. I was sick of the apologies and the sad stares. I was sick of sympathy. I was sick of my family waiting on me hand in foot, knocking on my door every ten minutes to make sure I was okay.

I looked over at my dresser and bit my lip. I couldn't do it again. I felt guilty the first time, and my wrist ached. Also the fact of being a Diabetic couldn't be too great for me either. Maybe there was a way to numb the pain. Everyone was asleep now and the house was pitch black. I tiptoed downstairs to my father's office and searched for a key to hold my answer. I found the small silver key and walked over to his cabinet, unlocking it and pulling out a bottle of whiskey. My father wasn't an alcoholic, he just liked a drink now and again, especially if there was a lot going on with the band or if Joe messed something up. It was his last resort, and now it was mine.

I snuck back up to my room and hestiantly opened the bottle, biting my lip. I took a small swig and started coughing. I heard a noise come from Kevin's room and I covered my mouth, fighting back chokes. Suddenly, my body felt better than it did, so I fought the burning in my throat from its intensity and took another gulp. Then another. And another. Soon, the bottle was empty, and I wasn't satisfied. Maybe it won't hurt as much this time. I walked over to my dresser, opened my sock drawer and pulled out a small piece of sharp metal. A razor I had gotten from Mom's sewing kit.