Dark and empty, those skeleton eyes peered back at me. So cold and unforgiving. Judgment, it’s what I deserved, but I can assure you the very last thing that I wanted. You live the life you choose, right? I took a deep breathe, wondering to myself why anyone would choose the life he lived. Then I stopped myself, realizing that it was the same life I’d chosen. What right did I have to talk? I reached out, touching his neck, trying to find a pulse, even though I already knew I wouldn’t find one. “No, no, no,” I whispered quietly, wishing with every cell in my tiny body that he would reach up and grab my hand, laughing at how he’d almost made me believe. I knew I wasting my wishes, though. I’d known on the drive over to his apartment, I’d known as I climbed the stairs, and fumbled around under the welcome mat and above the door frame as I searched for a key after no one responded to my persistent knocking, and I’d known when I finally found the key and opened the door. There was no smell, or noise. I hadn’t yet seen him, but I knew, all the same. I could feel it in my bones, and I could feel it in my blood. Victor Kent was dead. The only boy that I’d ever loved, the only boy who’d taken the time to look past my oversized sweaters and sunglasses to actually see me, the only boy who’d known everything about me and loved me all the same, and know he was gone. I wasn’t going to cry, I swore silently. I had never cried in front of him when he was alive, and I sure as hell wasn’t going to now that he was dead. I kept repeating it to myself in my head while I made my way outside, dialing 911, unsure of what to say, but when an offical sounding voice asked me what the nature of my emergency was, I couldn’t stop the tears from pouring down my cheeks in little rivers, couldn’t suppress the sobs that started deep down in my heart and made me sound like a frightened little girl as I tried to explain to the woman how my boyfriend was dead. Who was I kidding, anyway? Seventeen years old, and the only person in the world that I could depend on was gone. A frightened little girl described me perfectly at that moment.
