My Best Friends Girl #2 Best Friends Series - May 6th 2024

Addison I lay down on my bed listening to Linkin Park-numb singing; Chester Bennington, god rest your soul. I began to think how my life had turned out, pretty shitty really. Since the death of my sister everybody has blamed her passing on me. Like what the hell? It was her choice to be dumb and OD. I begged her not to take whatever they were giving her, but she hushed me and told me not to worry. Yes, my worry didn’t bother her, and she had a seizure, making her have an epileptic fit. She went into a coma and never came out. Of course, my whole family blamed me for telling me I could’ve done more, like what? I did the best I could. They obviously didn’t know my sister as well as they thought, she never thought things through, just did them. That was the consequence she took of being a risk-taker and it ended her life. I began to sing to the lyrics thinking that this song just sums up my life perfectly: alone, abandoned, hated, unloved, wanting to prove my worth to people that have no interest in it. Well, I, for one, have plans. I have applied for college and I have been accepted. Then it's uni for me. As long as it’s far away from here, I’ll be happy. I just want to get out of here. I don’t want their help. I doubt I’ll get it anyway. I’ll have a grant, and I’ll get a job to help pay for expenses and to pay back every penny of the grant, and they’ll be out of my life forever. I have a social disorder thanks to those that dare call themselves my family, like s**t they are. They wouldn’t care if I died tomorrow; they’d probably dance on my grave because my pathetic self is no longer around to torment them. As I was saying, I have a social disorder. I am unable to make friends because once they know my condition they just keep away, especially when they find out about what happened to my sister, thanks to my hateful family. I also suffer from bipolar, OCD, and other s**t which I don’t care to discuss right now. It all bottles down to my surroundings and the s**t way my family treats me. Once I turn eighteen, I get the f**k out of here and never come back. “TURN THAT CRAP DOWN AND STOP SCREECHING LIKE A BANSHEE. YOUR SINGING VOICE IS TERRIBLE!” Bitch! My music teacher said I had a voice like an angel. I shot my two middle fingers up as a big FU. I haven’t felt like they were my family in such a long time. They had always preferred my sister over me. ~ No one knew I had visited the boy that was in the accident. He was hooked up to all kinds of machines keeping him breathing and alive. I felt I had to tell him how sorry I was, even if he couldn’t hear me. I had no idea if he had woken from the coma until the day I began college and there he was staring at me in awe. He introduced himself as Theo. I told him my name was Addison. I had no idea how to tell him that I already knew who he was and how I knew him. I was scared if he found out who I was that he would want nothing to do with me, though I was not to blame but my sister and her dumb fuckin boyfriend, who thought it was cool to do cocktails and drive when high that night. I lost my older sister to her stupidity and a drug overdose. I had no sympathy for her boyfriend whatsoever. The same goes for my family. I’m out of there, and I’m never looking back. Theo Nothing has been the same since the accident, the one that took my memories of all the good things that were in my life. I’m now left with piecing the puzzle back together all because of a driver that was so high that he didn’t even see me in time to stop. I was still angry that my best friend all through school had decided to up and leave all of us behind and move with his family to America because of one girl: Courtney Mendez. I wasn’t ever going to make that mistake, ever. I woke from a coma five weeks after the accident having vivid dreams of a girl holding my hand and apologizing over and over again about what had happened. I wanted to find that girl to ask her what she was apologizing about. She was the only voice fresh in my mind, but not knowing who she was and what she looked like was going to cause some significant problems finding her and talking to her to find out what went on. I can’t remember much of that night. I just tumbled over the bonnet of a car that was going at least a hundred miles down a thirty-mile road. The doctors had told me I was lucky that I pulled through. There was only me and a young girl around my age that had survived the accident. I guess that’s the voice I kept hearing apologizing to me. The driver and the older girl on the passenger side died on impact. They were both intoxicated with a cocktail of drugs, and they had both OD’d and had lost consciousness before the car had taken me off the road. Thank God for my helmet, or I would’ve been dead or sustained severe brain damage. But they had to do tests to see if everything was working properly. The tests took days and a week went by when they came back clear, but something didn’t feel right, something was off, but I couldn’t work out what until Jayden turned up, and I didn’t even recognize him. Then my other friends came to visit and it continued. The girls were crying and Jayden looked lost in what to say. The doctor said it was minor memory loss and that I would remember in time. I dreaded the day I remembered everything. My memory came back slowly, and I remembered my friends, but everyone felt so far away. I had pushed them away and there was only Jayden left by my side when we left high school. Then I met her, then it all came flooding back about the accident. I remembered one thing: her eyes as she looked at me before I fell. I saw the car roll and crash into the tree before I lost consciousness, but all I saw was her eyes. They were so scared.