"The reason it hurts so much to separate is because our souls are connected. "

Bree's POV

"Jackson, just tell me where you're taking me!" I plead for the hundredth time today. Today is my eighteenth birthday and with no knowledge whatsoever of what is possibly going on, I'm currently being dragged by my brother to someplace that I have no clue of.

"Kitty, can you just wait for your surprise?" my irksome brother replies curtly.

Just as my annoyance is about to reach the limit, my phone rings and to my big surprise, it's my dad.

"Hey, Dad!" I pick up the call.

"Sorry ma'am, there had been an accident near Dupont Circle. It's best if you could get here as fast as possible," someone says from the other end.

My heart drops right out of its place and into my stomach, curdling. My phone slips out of my hand, and Jackson stops the car.

"Bree what's wrong?" he asks me, unaware.

"Mom...and Dad...in an...accident," I croak, and hot tears roll down my face.

This couldn't be happening.

"Drive back to Dupont Circle. Quick!" I manage to barely squeeze the sentence out as Jackson starts the car.

His eyes are glossy with fresh tears, and he drives faster than usual. There are millions of things rushing through my head, and it's all too much to handle, eventually; I struggle to swallow a lump in my throat that's trying to push its way up.

It is indeed, my dad's car. Jackson and I share a similar look of disbelief. Gripping my hand, he leads the way.

My heart halted, and sunk further into my stomach, almost painfully. The scene is completely unbearable even to look at, shards of glass splattered everywhere like Christmas decorations and reminders of metallic pieces from the wreckage. However, most importantly, the epicenter of the greatest tragedy.

Mom. Dad. My best friends, Maddison and Ashton.

Each and every one of their bodies being taken on stretchers to the flailing ambulance. My eyes are glued to their lifeless bodies. Jackson drags me near them and speaks to someone, all while I'm blank.

My parents and best friends are dead.

Dead.

Dead...

~

Tears taint my eyes. It's been nearly two months since it happened. I've been crying myself to sleep every day and scream into a pillow, in an attempt to numb it all. Why me?

I miss my Mom and Dad.

I miss my friends.

I can never stop blaming myself for it. Wiping off my tears, I check my phone which reads 5:00 am. I guess I'll go running; it's a new habit I've picked up as a way of relieving the tension heavy in my heart.

Since my parents died, my brother has been taking care of my dad's business in London, and I stay here all alone in this big mansion in Washington.

I change into my sports outfit and get out of my room. I check on Maria, the lady my brother appointed as my caretaker, she's been working for my mom before.

She does everything from cooking to the laundry. I love her for being there for me, and so I leave a note saying that I'm going for a run and get out of the house.

"Brad, I'm going running alone," I tell my bodyguard, who insists on following me everywhere I go.

"But Bree..." Brad starts, but I cut him off.

"Please," I insist, and he just nods. I know they would follow me either way. The only difference is; they'll stay at a distance.

Running and dancing help me get over the anger and manage it. I put on my iPod and run. Why did it have to be my parents and friends? I let out a few tears as I ran down the streets of Washington.

~

I come back home by 6:30 am. One and a half-hour left before I have to go to school.

"Good morning Maria," I call as I walk into my house.

"Good morning sweetheart," Maria replies from the kitchen.

I walk back to my room and take off my clothes before stepping into the shower.

I let the ice-cold water pour on my body, and my muscles instantly relax from the tension.

Tears came down with the water. I look down at my wrists. I've been cutting them since my parents died. I wish that I could die someday too, but I still had my brother to live for.

I get out of the shower with a towel wrapped around my body when my phone starts ringing.

Jackson.

"Good morning Kitty," he says.

I sit down on my bed and continue to converse, "Hey brother."

"Nightmare again?" he guesses.

"Do I have to answer that?" I ask him, and he sighs.

"Just try making some friends, Kitty. I can't see you like this. Try to get it out of your mind. It's not your fault," he reasons like he attempts to do every single day.

"No, Jackson. I can't get it out of my head! I can't stop blaming myself; they died on my fucking birthday," I tell him and silent tears roll down my face.

He sighs before talking again, "take care, okay?"

"I will, bye," I finish.

"Love you, bye," he says before hanging up.

I couldn't help it. I just can't get it out of my head.

I get to my closet as I keep thinking about stuff. My closet is almost as big as my room. I had a broad range of clothes, but my outfit to school was my mask. I wore a sweatshirt and a pair of ripped jeans.

I felt worse today, and I don't know why. I put on my outfit and a pair of converse. Everything's changed ever since they passed away, even my fashion sense.

I get down to the living room, and could smell the pancakes Maria is making in the kitchen. I get there and take a seat on the barstool while waiting for Maria to give me breakfast. Maria gives me my plate and sits down next to me to have hers.

She was the only person aside from my brother who makes me feel normal even if it's for a second. I sip on the coffee as, I stuff my mouth with the pancakes.

I feel the anger rising inside me. This happens almost everyday. I get angry for nothing. I get furious at myself.

Why?

Because you think, the accident is because of you. Because they died on your birthday and because you love them so much.

I finish my breakfast and thank Maria before leaving. I take my beaten-up Chevy. I have a Bentley and many other cars but to school, I take this. As usual, Brad follows me in another vehicle. My brother takes all the precautions to make sure I'm safe.

From what?

From self-harm. Just to make sure I don't drive off a cliff or something.

Possessive brother, right?

Yes.

Brad waits out as usual, and I enter my school. The halls had beautiful designer wallpapers with a tiled
flooring.

"Hey look who's here," Ricky says along with his gang of friends.

Yes, I was bullied, and I never stopped them. I don't know why and I was never like this. I changed schools after my parents died.

Today, I don't know why, but I'm infuriated, and I cannot take the bullying for a long time.

I could fight back because I've been taught defensive and fighting skills, but I don't use them because maybe the physical pain that's caused by bullying, can help me divert my mind from constant thinking.

"I was talking to you," Ricky says, but I ignore him and walk to my locker.

I put in the combination and take the books for my upcoming classes. English was first and as usual; I took a seat in the first row. It was so unlike me.

I didn't have friends here or no-one else for that matter. I never let anyone get close to me. Not after what happened. People start coming in. Ms. Stump was our English teacher. She is a lovely woman.

"Now class, I'll come to each and everyone and collect the assignment that I gave you on Monday," Ms. Stump announces, and I hand over my work to her.

She's got a funny name, doesn't she?

I start drawing something at the back of my book and stop when Ms. Stump starts her class.

~

Having lunch, I sit at an empty table eating the lunch Maria has made since the school food sucks.

I eat as fast as I could and get out of the room. My phone buzzes in my back pocket. Jackson.

"Yeah Jackson. What is it now?" I ask him, exasperatedly.

Was I rude?

Yes.

"Maria told me you looked sad in the morning," Jackson informs.

"I'm not sad Jackson. I...I'm just angry at myself," I say and sigh as I reach my locker.

"You have to get over it Kitty," he says.

Something hits my head, and it ticks me off. I look around to see Ricky and Jason throwing paper balls at me. They are so going to be dead today.

"Listen, Jackson. I'll call you after school," I speak, and I start heading towards them.

They crossed their damn limits today. "Woah! You sound like you're going to rip someone's head off," Jackson adds excitedly over the phone.

"You doubt that? I'll call you later. Bye. I love you," I say and hang up.

"Ricky, would you fucking stop it?" I ask him, and he smirks.

"Are you warning me?" he questions still throwing bits of paper at me. My hands ball up into fists. This guy is so going to get it.

"Ricky would you stop fucking doing it, or I swear I'm going to introduce you to fucking hell," I hiss through my teeth.

"Should I be scared of you?" he presses with that fucking annoying smirk. That's it.

I drag him down and punch him in his face and stomach. He digs his nails into my skin, and I walloped him. Fucking ass hole. I warned him.

I yank my arm away from his hold and give him one last punch in his stomach.

"I warned you," I say getting up and Ricky groans in pain. There's crimson blood dripping from my arm, but I don't care. I walk away and take my phone to call up Brad.

I tell him everything and ask him to sort things out with the principal. I decided on skipping school for today and going home. Brad talks to the principal, and he follows me behind my car. My arm did hurt, but it was nothing compared to the pain I had in my heart. The blood started to dry up on my drive back home.

~

"Bree what happened? There's blood on your arm?" Maria worries.

"It's nothing. I'll tell you everything, just let me have a shower first," I assure, trying not to be harsh.

She nods with a worried expression crossing her features, and I get to my room. It was different from the other rooms.

I've spray-painted on my walls with dark colors that would cover the ones I made in the past because they just reminded me of every moment; they were alive.

I take off my clothes and walk into the shower. I just stand underneath it. All the dry blood started to wash off, and tears roll down my face.

My anger is getting out of control. Everything reminds me of that day. I look down at the locket my mom gave me.

It had a photo of my mom and dad. I kiss it and cry. My legs give up, and I fall to my knees. I bang my fist against the floor. It did hurt, but it felt good because it helped me release some anger.

After a good half an hour, I got out of the shower and wrapped a towel around my body. I walk straight into my closet.

I put on some shorts and a baggy sleeveless t-shirt. I get back onto my bed and curl up into a ball. I let the tears flow freely.

My life is totally fucked up.

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~
So here's the first chapter. Tell me what you think. You know what to do vote, comment and share!

Love ya'll
-this_is_her.........😘