Chasing Casey - Chapter #1 - Free To Read

"It was a year ago when it happened," I began, writing the same story, unable to continue. That's as far as I got every time. With a groan of frustration, I threw my pen down, burying my head in my hands.

My eyes were stinging with exhaustion. School was overrated. For someone so smart, I was failing pretty miserably at the subject I was meant to be best at. Okay, my essays have received high marks and the multiple choice I could do blind folded. It was the creative writing part I couldn't work out.

"Write something you know," my teacher continued to insist, handing back yet another one of my drafts that were deemed inadequate.

I was trying. I was trying to write a summary of the hell I've been through the last year and a half. For something so personal to me, it was pathetic that eight words was all I could write.

It could be a great story, but I couldn't write it. Not only because I didn't want to share it with the world. No, I think it's because I still have no idea how it all started. How this could ever happen to someone like me.

I'm your typical, unextraordinary teenager. I went to school, complained about school, ate, slept, repeat. A year ago, I was just like everyone else. Literally, one of the most normal teenagers probably on the planet. Cliché, I know.

My parents were together (still are), which is seemingly rare nowadays. I went well at school. I wasn't really popular, but I wasn't not popular, either. I snuck out, went to the parties. I drank illegally like most teenagers. I wasn't dark and stand offish, nor was I over-the-top outgoing. I got along with most people. My talents include excelling at English and being able to eat a taco in about five seconds.

And I was completely and utterly in love.

It wasn't your typical he-is-hotter-than-me and doesn't-know-I-exist story. What makes it not so typical is that he knew I existed. I spent almost every second with him. We were so close, it was scary. There was no me, without him and vice versa. If we weren't with each other, we were texting. It was ridiculous how much we spoke, if I'm honest. My parents actually told me it was unhealthy how obsessed we were with each other. Me actually being obsessed. It was like a strange hunger inside of me. I needed to know what he was doing and where he was. I needed him to know what I was doing. He was the same, but in a way, or so I think, one would care for their sibling.

Everyone knew us together.

If he ever dated someone, they dated me too. That's just what they had to deal with, not that he actually dated many girls. I used to claim I didn't date because I didn't want that kind of commitment. That was a lie. It was just that no one compared to him. If I drunkenly hooked up with someone, when I closed my eyes, it was Casey I thought of. Eventually, I stopped trying to find someone other than him. He was all I wanted. Sure, at parties I'd still hook up with someone if the opportunity presented itself, but I was never going to date anyone. I couldn't.

"Girls are overrated," he always used to sigh. "Except you, my love."

My love. That's what he called me. For him, it was a joking around, not-so-serious way of saying I was his best friend. But he actually was my love. He was amazing, in every single way.

We were best friends as soon as we met each other. It was strange. First day of year seven, was the day that changed my life. I was a bit of a loner, having come from a tiny primary school. No one else from my school went to the high school I did, which made things hard. Then I met Casey. I still remember the day with crystal-clear vividness.

"Want a pizza?" He asked. His hair was too long, his eyes too eager, his teeth too big for his mouth. He was the cutest boy I had ever seen. "My shout?"

I had stared up at him timidly. A boy was talking to me. Back then, I was in my pre-teen, social awkwardness stage. I had the greasy, slicked hair, no make-up, being a bit chubby thing going on. Why was this cute boy singling me out? My cheeks were hot, my heart beating rapidly, my stomach bubbling with nerves.

"Yeah." I brilliantly replied.

That's how it started. He bought me a pizza. I thought he was going to ask me out. My heart had been slamming against my rib cage. My hands were trembling as I bit into the deliciousness.

Did I smell? Was my hair as gross as it felt? Was this a prank? A million questions rushed through my mind like a whirlwind. I was scared. Sure, it was just pizza with a guy, but I had never been in a situation like this. Did he like me? Was this the start of my first relationship? Was I ready? I don't even know anything about boys!

My mind soon became at ease.

He was the easiest person to talk to. I'd never met anyone like him. Twenty minutes into our lunch date, I couldn't stop staring, couldn't stop blushing and couldn't stop babbling like an idiot. Twenty minutes in, I had begun falling for this boy.

Ever since then, no matter how much he got teased for being friends with a girl or me being teased that I was 'out of my league', we stuck together like glue. We didn't ever spend one day a part. Not one. If I went on a family holiday, he did too. If I was sick, he was at my house making me disgusting soup. If we fought and I told him to leave me alone, he would come over anyway. Spending every day with someone makes you truly understand who they are. We knew everything about each other. Down to every, tiny, embarrassing detail.

That's why I loved him.

Then it happened. As all good stories, that was a dramatic plot twist that shook my world. It all crumbled to an abrupt stop and emotionally, I still wasn't okay. I still haven't accepted what happened. I was so confused. I knew him better than I knew myself.

How he could do it... I honestly have no clue. It was the most absurd thing, when you think about it. Like a horror story, only worse, since it actually happened to me. For the past year, every single day, I have asked myself the same questions.

How didn't I see it coming? Was I some part of it? What could I have done to prevent it? Why did he do it?

I can't describe how broken I felt. I honestly couldn't function. It was horrible. My heart was shattered into a million pieces. I became emotionally unstable. I kept to myself. I didn't talk. I didn't eat. It was to the point where I was hospitalised. I soon recovered, physically, and focused on something else.

Anger.

I was so unbelievably angry with him. I will never forgive him for what he did. He has turned me into someone that I don't want to be. I don't want to be this hate-filled person. But I can't help it. This is who I've become. And it's all his fault.

He's made me insane. He's everywhere, but he's nowhere. My eyes burned as tears threatened to spill. But they wouldn't. I haven't cried for months. I can't. I honestly think I cried so much after it happened that my body cannot produce anymore tears. I was broken.

Casey. My best friend. The person I knew more than anyone. The person I trusted. The person I loved.

He killed himself.

Or, so I thought.