One Night

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Other  |  House: Booksie Classic

Submitted: November 15, 2017

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Submitted: November 15, 2017

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“Dear Diary,

The psychiatrist said I need to start writing in you, her condition for deeming me fit to leave the psych ward, still can't go home I don't know if I'd want too. I haven't heard anything about Elena or about Matt yet. Today started out like any other. I woke up I got dressed and i headed out to school. But just like that things can change in an instant. I never wanted this, none of us did. This wasn't how things were supposed to go. We had our lives completely planned out. And now? Today started out like any other except today was the worst day of my life. Maybe I should back up a little. First off my name is Circe Fitz, and I was your stereotypical high school teenager at Deer River High. I'm 16 and I have a group of friends who are crazy enough to keep me sane, Elena, Matt and Brandon. Of course I had other friends, we were a big group overall. But the four of us were everything to each other, we grew up together, went to school together, partied together, best friends from the start and so were our parents. That's why they all moved near one another. Now our group is pretty simple. Brandon, he's 17 but a junior like us and he's the musical one, the boy can play about a million instruments, that's an exaggeration but he can play a lot and Juilliard already accepted him for early placement. Next would be Matt and he's the jock, 16 and the oldest after Brandon. Then comes Elena, she's the artsy one, she's always drawing or painting or sculpting, she claims she sucks but she could totally be like the next Picasso. Finally me, I'm the youngest, and according to them I'm the smart one. I have a photographic memory, which everybody says is so lucky but trust me, having everything you see burned into your mind is just as much a curse. But that's us, I could tell you about my other friends, or about the time we lead a protest against bed times when we were 8. I could just go on about the good times. I could easily avoid having to talk about today. She told me to write about today but that nobody would read it. She wouldn't know if I just kept going. But I know if I avoid this I'm betraying the people I say i love. So I'm going to tell you. I'm going to tell you everything, the full story, the bloody details, the searing pain, and the utter heartbreak. Today is December 8th, 2012. Today was just another day. I woke up a little late but it's nothing new to me as just like any other Brandon picked me up, Elena and Matt in the back, as we headed to school, just like always. Matt was talking about some game from the night before, Elena couldn't hush about this new art student and Brandon was obsessing over his new composition. All those things seemed so important I can't fathom things being so simple ever again. I was in first period when they called me to the office. I remember the shock I felt when Mr.Thurman, our principal, told me I had won the academic scholars award. I don't remember much about what he said after that, but from what I do my SAT and ACT test scores were the highest in the district and he mentioned a scholarship at one point. Yet the only thing I could think about was how everybody would react. How everybody would say I didn't deserve it, I only got it because of my memory. It's laughable now how important something so childish was to me just a short time ago. I remember hearing about this award but I assumed like always it would be won by Jonathan. He is the smartest kid in our grade, always has been. Always hated me. Now you would think having a photographic memory would mean I was, right? Wrong. It meant I remembered everything, so I would usually know an answer, but I am not so great at explaining why that was the answer, so finding out i scored higher was an actual shock. Anybody else would have been proud of this but for some reason for me, it was horrible. I didn’t want this. I didn’t want everybody to see me as the brainiac, I liked my life and I didn’t want anything to change. That is what hurts the most. It was my unwillingness to change that destroyed everything. I was so determined to be anything but the freaky smart award winning brainiac that I insisted we go to a party, Matt was easy to convince, Brandon and Elena were a little harder but after me insisting that it was to celebrate the award, rather than prove I am more, they caved in. I don’t really remember the party, I remember getting ready with Elena, I remember dancing with Brandon, I had a few drinks, not even sure what they were, the whole thing was a blur. But I remember getting in the car, insisting I was fine to drive, Brandon sat in the passenger and Matt, with Elena, in the back. It was over an hour back to our houses, after a while Matt and Elena fell asleep, it was just Brandon and I. We talked about the most random things, things that seemed so simple. So pointless. And now i will cherish them. We were almost home, another 10 minutes on the highway, and we would be there. Today started out like any other. I woke up I got dressed and I headed out to school. But just like that things can change in an instant. I lost control of the car, I wasn’t paying attention, and I remember everything. It happened almost in slow motion. We drove straight into the semi. The front of the truck smashed, shattering the windshield. The glass flew at us biting every inch of flesh it could, the wind slashed at us. I remember hearing screams, I remember screaming. I remember Brandon flying through the broken windshield..after that not much. Bits and pieces fly out to me at times but the next solid memory was waking up in the hospital, psych ward. I had to talk to so many doctors i felt lost in a sea of nameless faces. After what felt like years they let me go to a real room in the hospital. The doctor told me i would be able to leave in the morning. He said i would be able to go home, but i don’t know if that is something i want to have to do. Home was always us four. Four. We never did anything without the rest. Home is gone. Because Brandon is gone. And for Matt and Elena and I, how is this something we cou----”

The ink slurred across the page as her hand slipped off the journal with its rosy pink cover. Nobody heard the pen as it hit the ground with a soft thump, they couldn’t hear it over the high pitch squeal coming from the machine hooked up to the young girl. A doctor in light blue scrubs comes running in,

“V-fib, page cardio, paddles!”

She hollers at the surrounding nurses and other doctors rushing into the small room. Another person rubs together the paddles of a defibrillator handing them to the women hollering orders,

“Charge to 200, clear!”

she yells pressing the paddles into the chest of young Circe as everybody removes their hands, there’s a moment of pause, before the commotion starts back up,

“Charge to 250, clear!”

The dance of trying to revive her goes on, for how long? 5 minutes? 6? Maybe longer? It continues.

“Charge to 300, clear!”

More doctors rush into the room, surrounding the young girl. You can see her mom outside the door, shell-shocked as she watches these doctors, these people she doesn’t know jolt electric shocks into her baby girl, the horror on her face as she sees her only child’s lifeless body jump with every touch. This scene goes on. How long has it been? You wouldn’t think anybody could keep count but then a soft but firm voice speaks out through the noise,

“I’m calling it, time of death: 3:05pm.”

The young doctor leaves the room after writing the time on a now dead girl’s chart. Everyone else in the room slowly clears out, taking out equipment, unplugging machines needed elsewhere. You can see a women in the hall fall to the ground crying, her husband hugging her to him, surrounding people looked at them uncomfortable at the sight of them. A nurse calls to the morgue and attempts to talk to the parents about what they want to do with the body. Another bottle takes a life.

 

Less than a week later, the air was crisp, chilly but not cold. There was a few chirps but no birds were singing in the cemetery. Two teenagers could be seen walking together up the long path to the freshly turned dirt. Seemingly only connected by the touch of their hands but bonded by not only a lifetime together but by tragedy and loss. The younger of the two, her red long hair pulled in a braid down her back, with a simple black dress, had on a sweater pulled over the darkened finger nails to hide where the shattered car window had left her with stitches. Besides her with his fingers laced through hers is a slightly taller, slightly older best friend, who’s blonde hair just doesn’t seem so bright anymore, with all black donned on his body and his head lowered ever so slightly he limps from where the car door smashed his leg. These two walk forward, right foot, left foot, right foot, left foot. Repeat. Repeat. For what seems like forever. They walk forward, up the winding path to the gathering of people, all seemingly waiting on these two. They walk forward up the never ending slope until they come to stop, a few feet from two caskets, simple ones, solid black, they could belong to anybody, but they held the bodies of their loved ones, of their best friends, of the other half of who they are. People stare, the world holds its breath as Elena walks first to the body of Circe, the girl she had always known. People may have saw the grief on her face or the devastation in her body, for nobody said a thing when she reached into the casket holding her best friend and slid a ring on her cold long fingers. Nobody else would understand what this was to them. But for Elena she could feel nothing but a stab of pain on repeat in her heart as she looked down at her best friend, the girl she learned to talk with, the girl she suffered heartbreak with and periods and so many other things that had bonded them together, a single tear rolled down her cheek as she slipped onto her finger a ring from so many years ago. Nobody said a word as young Elena moved towards to the other casket and placed a piece of paper in the hands of young Brandon, nobody outside of the four knew what it contained, they didn’t know it was the first sketch of the treehouse the built a lifetime ago, they didn’t know that he was the one who pushed her to draw after seeing it, they didn’t know it felt right for her to give it to him for without the push she wouldn’t be where she was. All that could be heard as she stepped away from the caskets, away from her best friends was the wind in the trees, the rustling of leaves, it was silent except for the sounds of nature as young still Matt stepped up to say goodbye to the ones he loved. He stepped up to Brandon and in a way that made sense only to their group he placed a small harmonica in Brandon’s other hand, the first instrument he had learned to play. Those gathered knew of the boy’s musical talent, thinking it just to be a honor to that, but Elena knew the truth, Matt had taken it from Brandon when they were young because of how it annoyed him. Matt choked back a sob trying to escape him as he looked down at the guy he had come to call a brother and realized never again would they go hunting, never again would they go on a midnight run, never again would he see those happy eyes. Matt than almost ghost like slid over to Circe, he looked at how peaceful she looked, her long dark hair splayed perfectly around her, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a hair clip, the others had bought it for her months ago and were planning to give it to her for Christmas after seeing her longing gaze in the store, it seemed fitting to him she should be able to rest in it. After a moment longer he too stepped away to where Elena, his best friend stood. The two looked out at the sea of people all there because of the death of their friends, their family. They knew they would never feel the same. They would never be the same. And with that, they walked away.


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