Chapter 1 Prom Night

AMY'S POV

"And this year's prom King and queen goes to...Amy and Christian. Our favorite couple of the year." The student president said, smiling as she read the card. I couldn't believe it as people cheered us on, I mean I suspected we would both be voted for but not for winning.

Christian held my hand as we both walked up the stage, I was beaming from ear to ear as the crown was placed on my head.

"Is there something one of you would like to say?" The student president asked. Christian took the microphone from her and readjusted his crown.

Christian gave a very short speech he could give at best and just as I thought he was done speaking he turned to me, "And before I hand over the mic," he said.

"I just want to give a special shout-out to Amy," I never knew I could smile wider than I already was. "The girl who's been nominated Prom queen, who would have thought that the girl who's been engaged since freshman year would end up dating some and also run for prom queen."

I froze, everyone else in the room froze as Christian finished speaking. The room was so quiet that you could hear a pin drop.

Christian smiled, but it was empty. It lacked any emotion and resembled none of the ones he always has me.

I held his hand, feeling my smile falter. "Christian what are you talking about?"

He shook himself from me as he threw the crown from his head, "Your touch is making my skin crawl, you disgusting two timer." Christian dropped the mic on the floor and walked out.

People were beginning to murmur, but I couldn't care less as I ran after him calling his name.

Christia's eyes burned with anger, hurt and betrayal as he confronted me. "How could you keep this from me Amy? You should know better."

I grasped his left arm, desperate to make him understand, "Christian please, I'm sorry. I didn't know how to tell you so I was waiting for the right moment."

His expression turned icy, as he stared at me with disgust. "You're no better than others Amy, you were with me knowing you were betrothed to someone else. That's disgusting.

Tears streamed down my face as I begged him to listen, "Please let's talk this out. We can make it work somehow, I love you not him."

Christian's voice was detached, "it's over Amy, I never want to see you again. You're dead to me."

He shook off my grip and strode to his car. I chased after him, clinging to the window and beating on it. "Christian, please!!"

He ran away from the parking lot, and I stumbled backwards, losing my grip. Time seemed to slow down as I watched in horror. Christian's car careened out of control, crashing into another vehicle as he slammed into a tree.

The sound of crunching metal and shattering glass echoing in my ear, "Christian!!" I screamed running towards the wreckage.

His unconscious body was slumped over the steering, shattered glass over him.

"No no no!" I cried out as panic consumed me. "This can't be happening, somebody help. Somebody call an ambulance!"

But I was alone in the parking lot, the car that hit Christian suffered some damage too, but I couldn't see the driver.

I stumbled back inside to get my phone, I dialled 911 in with my shaking hands and my voice was barely audible as I was choking back a sob. Before I could finish explaining and headed back to the wreckage, Christian was already gone.

I walked hurriedly into the nearest hospital, my legs shaking like they were about to give out. "Where is he? Where is Christian?" I begged the nurse.

A woman who looked exactly like Christian came out from the crowd, "He's dead. You killed my son." She spat, she already had her hands closing around the neck of my dress.

Dead? Christian dead? The room began to spin and I felt myself suffocating.

The weight of my guilt was crushing me more than her hand on my dress. I sucked in air greedily but was still unable to breathe properly, and then everything went blank.

I slowly opened my eyes and saw myself in a chair while a nurse waved her hand in my face. "Miss, are you okay?"

I tried to speak but my force was hoarse, then suddenly I remembered what happened and was silently wishing it was all a dream.

"Christian! Christian, is he...?" My voice broke as the nurses exchanged glances. Before any of them could reply to me, I saw Christian's mother storm in with police officers.

"The crime I reported, that's the girl." She said, her eyes fixed on me. "She killed my son."

I was dragged away by the police men, not even bothering to struggle.

I was asked a lot of questions but unable to give even a single answer. Somewhere along the questions, I fell unconscious.

"Time to wake up sleeping beauty," a voice said as I turned and opened my eyes. I recognized the man as the one who was up all night with me asking countless questions.

"We're not accusing you or anything, just want to know what happened last night." I watched as he pulled his belt further up his waist and placed what looked like a half broken coffee mug on the table.

"So? Are you ready to talk?"

I nodded, picking on the dirt underneath my nails. No, not dirt, blood. I froze at the reminder of whose blood it was. I choked back another sob and raised my head to the officer.

"Can I– I need to wash my hands."

He pointed at the sink at the end of the room. I washed my hands until it became red but I continued scrubbing and scrubbing, wishing I could wash away the memories of last night with it.

A commotion erupted from outside the door and my father stepped in and stared at me with blazing eyes.

"We're leaving." He said.

After the interrogation with the police, I walked out the door to hear Christian's mother calling me a murderer and other names. But I simply tuned her out unintentionally.

My father continued talking and talking about how he told me to stay away from Christian and I refused. He called me stubborn and how silly I was for going against him now see where it landed me.

His talk was the least of the things going through my head during the drive home. I took a bath, moving on autopilot as I ate without tasting the food.

"Look at her," my mother said sympathetically. "She needs therapy, watching someone die was probably really traumatizing. And it's as if she's living in her head."

"What she needs is to learn not to go against me next time." They both spoke about me like I wasn't in their presence. Maybe I wasn't, it felt more like I was in the corner of my head, watching everything happen.