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I found Annabelle.
She hadn't come to school that day. She said she was sick. I had to walk.
She called me at Three. She told me to go to my friend's house, but I was already walking home and was mad she wouldn't pick me up, so I said no. I told her I was coming home.
When I got there, I let myself in with my spare house key. I went straight to my room and went to lie on my bed, but a flash of white on my desk caught my eye.
When I looked, I saw it was an unopened envelope. I figured it was a letter for me, but didn't know who would be writing me. All of my friends live within twenty miles of me, and I see them nearly every day. And besides, any of my friends could just text me. Duh.
I quickly reached out and turned it over. It was oddly heavy and said my name on the back, but nothing else. No address. I tentatively opened it and pulled out the sheet of paper inside. Along with her necklace. the one she was never without. It is a dainty silver chain with a small, simple cross pendant hanging from it. Confused, I opened up the sheet of paper and read. The note was only six words. Seven if you count her name.
I think I knew as soon as I read them.
I told myself I was confused, that I was misinterpreting them. Overreacting. But suddenly I was very aware of the quiet house around me. Dead quiet. Annabelle was supposed to be home.
I walked to her room and knocked on the door. Calmly. Telling myself I was just being silly. She'd open the door and ask me what I was doing home already. Probably be annoyed I was there.
She didn't.
I knocked again. No answer. I checked the driveway. Her car was there. She could have been on a run. I didn't believe it. I knocked harder on the door. I turned the handle. Something heavy was in front of the door.
"Annabelle, you in there?" I had asked. Then I'd tried pushing the door more and grunted. "Annabelle, let me in!" My voice cracked on her name. In a panic, i slammed my body into the door, tipping whatever was in front of it over and opening the door a bit. I was able to squeeze through. The heavy object was her desk. The papers from the drawers were scattered around the room.
Annabelle was on her bed. She would've looked like she was sleeping if it wasn't for the vomit surrounding her head.
And the empty pill bottle on her bedside table.
I had immediately frozen, then fumbled and called 911. When the line picked up, I immediately started talking. My voice panicked and wet with sobs. I don't even remember what I said.
I did what the dispatcher told me. There was no pulse. But I did CPR anyways. I did it until I heard her ribs crack. Over and over and over. Push. Push. Push. Sobbing. Screaming. Until the paramedics finally got there and dragged me off of her. They felt for a pulse. They lifted her eyelids. They told me what I already knew.
She was dead.
And I threw up all over her pretty off-white carpet.
312Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡO1o8uOeHLx
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