He lies on his bed, head pounding, ears ringing. The music had stopped hours ago, but his headphones were still in his ears. He lies, as if frozen, clenching the locket in his hand, the sharp metal piercing his skin, making his hands bleed. But he doesn’t let go, he hasn’t moved in hours. He keeps replaying the scene in his head. The impact, the screams, the sirens, and the silence that followed.

His phone vibrates, breaking the silence, but he ignores it. The only person that he would have answered for is now gone. Headlights scroll past, illuminating the room for a few seconds. The phone vibrates again. This time, he reaches over to turn it off. As he opens it, his heart stops, thinking it’s a cruel joke. It can’t be, her phone is gone, she’s gone. Left on I-90 in a burning wreck. Apprehensively, he reads the text message.

“its not ur fault”

Angry tears swell in his eyes as he chucks the phone against the wall. He pounds his fists into the pillow and screams, bitter and shocked.