Hold on, For me

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

A girl overcomes a tragedy in her life by the help of a new found friend. When they become close enough, the new friend sends the girl into the time of her life after convincing her to throw a house party...


I’ve stopped crying.
Not because I want to, but because my eyes know better than my heart that it’s not worth it.
But I still feel the pain deep inside my throat, a constant reminder of what happened. If only I had been smart enough to end it sooner, to realize that she was depressed, to help her when she needed me most. Now I’m depressed and there is no one to help me.
Well, until I met Amy.
Amy was your stereotypical version of a person named “Amy”. She has huge eyes that have the color of a green sea on a sunny day. Her brown hair was almost always up in pigtails and every week she changed the color of her bangs. She wore bright clothing that would get anyone’s attention, she loved to mix and match styles, and she absolutely loved to party. But the major thing about her was that she was always optimistic. It seems like nothing gets her down, and she made the best of every situation.
Naturally, she was annoying at first, but then she started asking me about things. Trying to get through the hard shell I had formed around myself as a shield from more pain getting in. She asked about me, my family, my pets, my favorites, and almost anything else could possibly think of. Then she’d buy me things, leave notes in my locker, and write me letters.
After a while she got to me. The ice around my heart was slowly melting as I let her in. I stopped being sad all the time, and started smiling. I made friends again, I was no longer afraid of being hurt, but more focused on being happy with people, life, everything.
Amy started sleeping over all the time, and when she wasn’t over, we’d talk on the phone for hours about anything and everything. She was willing to listen to anything I had to say. She was becoming my best friend. So I guess really the party at my house was all her idea.
We decided to throw a house party at my place since my parents were going out of town on a trip. We bought all of the food that would be there, she brought over all of the music and some huge speakers to place in the living room. I cleaned up all the rooms in the house, and removed anything breakable into the attic to prevent them from breaking.
Around 8 o’ clock, people started heading over to my house. All sorts of people stepped through my front door with smiles on their faces. Jocks, preps, cheerleader, nerds, you name it, that type of person was there. Of course most people crowded in the living room where the strobe lights were flashing, and the music pounding throughout the house. The bass that the subwoofers blasted made the floors bounce. Someone had brought a beer keg with them and had gotten out some cups for everyone to have some. People were dancing and singing. Truthfully, I thought it was going to be a pretty successful party.
Eventually, Amy and I joined in on the fun and got onto the “dance floor” she and I had made earlier. There were so many people, and all the alcohol, it was a thick perfume in the air. The floor was sticky from spilled drinks; food was being knocked off the table. And the noise…it was just too much.
Maybe I had had too much to drink, or maybe it was the constant pound of music in my head that gave me the major headache I got that night. I wouldn’t know, all I know is that I really needed a break from it all. Everyone was dripping with sweat, but some continued dancing. Some couples headed upstairs for some privacy. Suddenly Amy showed up out of nowhere and took my hand. She led me upstairs to my empty room where she sat me on the bed and opened the window for some air to leak in. The room felt like a cage though, with Amy towering above me, and nothing to defend myself with. She stood there and asked if I was ok. I replied that I was and she relaxed a bit and sat down next to me. After handing me a cup of water with ice in it, she laid back onto the bed, sighing.
I sat there for about half an hour, when I felt energized enough to go back downstairs and have more fun. Amy silently followed me and smiled. When we got downstairs the party was still going full blast. People were everywhere. Some were passed out; others still drinking, dancing, and having fun. Some of the people had left, probably because of parents, or the party was getting to rough for them, but there was still a significant amount of people left.
Some guys took a passed out girl and drew all over her face and body. Other people were drawing on other passed out drunks. Mostly as a joke, because they too were drunk, but some of them grabbed a girl named Shelby. She’s not what we would call skinny, or pretty, so they wrote all sorts of nasty things on her. They did it to several other people before. I ran upstairs to get away from them, straight to my room, where I found Amy passed out on my bed with Ryan(a jock) raping her.
I stopped in the doorway, knowing he would come after me if he saw me. So I was quiet, but I had to save Amy, like she had saved me. There was nothing I could do.
That’s when I felt it. The alcohol taking its effect in my stomach as it had in my brain. Fluid climbing up my throat and into my mouth. All of it was so fast. The vomit was all over the floor, and Ryan was at me in less than a minute. He was all over me. His hands tore at my clothes, his eyes filled with lust, his body quivering with the thrill he got from it all. I was too weak to fight back. I remember crying. It had been a long time since I had cried, and the stupid jerk had taken that away from me, and many other things all in just one night. He stole my happiness, my pride. Then he left me abandoned.
To die?
Probably not. He figured I’d pass out and wake up in the morning with a major hangover and not remember any of this.
It was cold, like a blanket of snow had fallen in my room, but I was covered in sweat. Maybe the sweat had frozen into a sheet of ice on my body, I was too afraid to open my eyes again. He might still be there. Waiting. I cried, again and again the tears rolled down my face and onto the floor. Amy was still passed out on the bed, breathing lightly. It felt like it should quiet. Like there should be whispers around me, telling me things. But the music was still going full blast downstairs.
Finally I got up. Sick with alcohol, I stumbled down the stairs to find him. I wanted revenge for what he did. What he took.
I found out in my backyard with a cigarette in his mouth and a bottle of beer in his hand. He was flirting with some girls who were in the pool. I walked over to him and pushed him. He looked at me, surprised. Then I started yelling, but my language was slurred from the beer, and it was so loud. My ears were pounding with my heartbeat. My brain was throbbing against my skull, like that feeling you get after running when you’re way out of shape. All the noise. Everyone was screaming, but it was quiet. He was hurting me, but I felt no more pain. I could see him there in front of me, but he was gone. It was black and white. And so cold. I felt him hitting me; I heard all the people shouting “Fight! Fight!” but they didn’t know that this was serious because they were drunk.
I don’t know why I didn’t find something to hurt him with. I don’t know why I didn’t try to severely hurt him. I don’t know why I thought yelling at him would help, but I kept doing it, not really thinking about what I was doing. I just closed my eyes and shut up. Maybe when I opened them, I’d be gone. Away from here. Away from him.
Suddenly my head felt cold and wet. I opened my eyes to see myself surrounded by water. It filled my lungs. I started choking, trying to get out, but it kept coming. Ryan was holding me underwater. He was killing me. I tried to fight back, but every part of my body hurt. Then everything was black. And quiet. I could still hear the water rushing around me for a little bit. Then it all came flying back. This happened so many times, it was torture. I couldn’t win; he was too strong, and too drunk to realize I was actually dying. I could feel my heart slowly stop beating. Then it disappeared altogether. I opened my eyes at last, to see the world for one last time. I didn’t see light, I didn’t see Ryan, I didn’t see the screaming people, I didn’t see the alcohol all over the place, I didn’t see the police, I didn’t see the last bubbles pop on the surface on the water, I didn’t even see if I was actually still alive or not. All I saw was Amy’s face staring down at mine, horrified. I could see her lips move as she started screaming, I could see the pain in her eyes as she tried to pull Ryan away from me, I could see a tear roll down her cheek softly, I could see her trying desperately to save my lifeless body, but it was all for nothing. I was dead.
October 26, 2010 at 2:43 AM, I died.
Amy cried for months afterwards. She would sit in her room and cry until she fell asleep. I sat right next to her the whole time.
One day she stopped crying. Not because she wanted to, but because her eyes knew better than her heart that it wasn’t worth it. She still felt the deep pain in the back of her throat that was a constant reminder of what had happened. If only she had been smart enough to end it sooner, to realize that the party was a really bad idea. Now she’s depressed and there is no one to help her.
Well, until she met Jessica…

Submitted: January 04, 2011

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