Original Stories Fan Fiction ❯ the ones left behind ❯ the ones left behind ( Chapter 1 )

The ones left behind

 

 

It was time again. Today was the day to revisit the spot that brings back the most painful memory of all. Every year on this day I go back there, to the place where he was buried. I go back to his final resting place.

 

You see, this time about five years ago a boy I knew quit well passed away. His name was Skyler Aaronson and he was still a young boy, he was only thirteen. If he were alive today he'd be eighteen years old, just like me. Skyler and I were very close friends. To tell the truth I liked him, I liked him a lot.

I still remember how he died. It was a horrible night. It was late and Skyler and I were just on our way home from the movies. Since we lived so close to the movie theater we were walking home. We were just talking, laughing, with each other when we heard the sound of screeching tires on the pavement protesting a very nasty turn.

When we looked up we saw an old rusty red pick-up truck speeding our way. When the driver threw an empty beer bottle out his window Skyler and I both knew he was drunk. As soon as I knew that I could feel my heart pounding and I froze. There was a drunk driver driving a big terrifying truck, at full speed, right our way, and it didn't look like he was going to stop or turn, and he was to close to us to dodge. I started crying.

All I could think was “we're going to die” over and over again in my head. I started gasping for breath. I was so afraid; I wasn't even able to acknowledge the fact that Skyler was shaking me by the shoulders yelling the words “run for it” as loud as he possibly could in my ear. All I could do was cry.

The next thing I knew I was on the ground just a few feet away from where I had been standing a few moments ago. The red pick-up truck speeded away and I heard a drunken laugh. I wondered what was so funny, till I looked back at were I had been just a little bit ago. There, on the ground in a puddle of crimson liquid, was Skyler's cold, lifeless body. I felt dizzy and sick. It was like my stomach did a 180.

I stared at his body for a few seconds; it felt like a life time of pain, then I shockingly got up and slowly walked over to him. I had one of my quivering hands over my mouth, incase I felt the need to puke, and the other in front of me, like I was trying to reach him. Once I was there, next to him, I dropped to the ground. My extended hand touched his check. He was so cold, and his skin was paler.

I spoke his name in a soft, weak voice as my tears started to roll off my check and drip onto the ground. I begged him to wake up, but he was never waking up. He was dead. As the realization hit I felt my body go numb. I mouthed the word no then started repeating it.

That was all I could think to say, as well as the words `this can't be happening' which I also said right before I screamed from the top of my lungs. A few seconds later a crowd started to form. I covered my face with my hands and started screaming no over and over again. Then I threw myself over his body. All that was running through my head was `why?'

I heard people talking all around me. Some asking what happened, children saying they were scared, some saying poor boy; I agreed with them, and some were even saying that poor girl referring to me. But how was I the poor one? I was still alive. Skyler was the only one who got hurt. I also heard someone dial a number. They had called the police, and an ambulance.

After that nothing else mattered. They had pulled me away from Skyler and forced me onto a stretcher to make sure I was okay.

 

And now hear I am. I'm back at his grave, with roses in my arms and tears on my face, looking down at his tomb stone thinking `it's all my fault' once more. But I always think that when I'm here. I kneeled down and spoke to the grave.

“Skyler, it's me again. How are you? I guess you must be pretty happy up in Heaven, aren't you? I hope so. I also hope you can hear me,” I say with a fake smile.

If he could see me, he'd know I'm not happy. He'd know how sad I am. Then I kissed his tomb stone, placed the roses on the dirt and walked away, whispering the words “I'll be with you soon” to myself.

 

 

Authors note: this is to show how depressed some people could get after losing someone they cared for. The drunk driver bit was because a lot of people die that way and it hurts people that knew the person who died more because they think about how painful the person who died death was and feel even sadder.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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