Melinda: Just Too Much

This is a story I wrote a while ago for a Language Arts project. Kinda lengthy, but I thought you guys might enjoy it. Leave your thoughts in the comments! :)





I smiled at Molly. This was the first time I had seen her laugh in about a week; her parents had started fighting again. They were very nice people, Mr. and Mrs. Heffler, but they had their disagreements. One time, Mrs. Heffler had to go to the hospital for the glass wounds from a wine glass being flown at her head. It wasn’t so bad, though, because Molly got to stay in our apartment for a week while her dad calmed down and her mom recovered.

Our apartment, strangely, was right off of a highway exit. We lived in a small Illinois town, surrounded by golden wheat fields and run-down barns with paint that had peeled so much that the red was but a faint glow. I liked it, though, our small community, and Molly did too. Sure, it got boring with nowhere to go, but sometimes when we were younger Pastor Conry would let us in the church on weekdays to explore the place. We often pretended as if we were scouts from the old Greek armies, scouting out the Persian buildings. Jumping from pew to pew, it was hard to stifle the laughs, and eventually we would break into simultaneous laughter as we fell to the ground, panting with joy. Sometimes, Molly’s cheeks would turn so red, they were like fresh tomatoes from my mother’s garden.

Today was supposed to be just another adventure, but instead of scouts, we were racing along the road that was seldom driven on. It wasn’t a terribly busy street, but the cars that did pass tended to fly by, driving at least ten miles over the speed limit. My mother used to always worry, thinking I’d get hit, and I always told her I’d be careful. Now, she’s not quite as concerned, seeing as I’m fourteen and old enough to know what’s safe and what isn’t. But today, with all the fun Molly and I were having, I didn’t even think about her safety warnings.

Molly held her phone in her hand, aiming it at me. “Amarie, say something to the camera.”

“Umm, hi,” I responded shyly. I raised my hand and gave a halfhearted wave. I didn’t care much for being in videos, and neither did Molly, but for some reason, today she had insisted we documented the day with her video phone. I didn’t care, though; she seemed happy and I didn’t want to ruin her day. She ran around the apartment building so carelessly, so joyfully, so happily. We took turns filming a little. When I had the phone, I’d tape me trying to find and catch Molly, and then I’d turn the camera over to her. She seemed to take a little bit too long for her to find me and chase after me, but when she did, I’d scream and then run in the other direction. Molly was too fast for me, though. She was able to catch up to me almost as soon as I’d take off. She handed the phone to me and ran in the other direction.

I held the phone at my face. I stared into the black lens built into her cell phone. “Well, let’s go find Molly!” Keeping the phone aimed at my face, I began to run towards the back of the building. “Hmm… I don’t see her yet. Maybe she ran to the front.” I began to hum a hymn from church that morning while I ran, so that when Molly and I replayed the video she would crack up. It was just the kind of thing she would laugh at.

“Molly? Gosh, Molly, you’re so good at hiding.” I flashed a quick smile at the lens. Even though being recorded made me uneasy, I tried to make it as funny as possible for Molly when she watched it again. I missed her cheesy grins, and today, I wasn’t going to give her a chance to wipe them off of her face. I ran back to the front of the apartments. Facing the façade, I wondered if Molly had gone in. I didn’t think so. She had specifically told me to stay outside, so I doubt she would have gone against her rules.

“Molly, I’m gonna getcha!” I called in an eerie voice, like the ones in the ghost hunter shows Molly watched. “Oh, come on, Molly, where’d you go?” I had run behind the building yet again, but still, no sign of her. I sighed and gave a comical shrug to the lens in the phone.

Before the sound even reached my ears, I knew something was up. Molly’s scream suddenly filled the air, followed by a shrill screech of tires. I ran to the front of the building, almost wanting to cover my eyes, knowing whatever happened couldn’t be good. As I ran, I gave a short prayer to God, asking for Molly to be okay.

My prayer must have been too late, because there was Molly, sprawled out in the middle of the road, motionless before a SUV. The next couple minutes where a blur; all I was sure of was that an endless river of tears flowed freely down my cheeks. I had fallen on the road next to her body. People were flooding out of the apartment building, yelling for something, but I was so lost in grief I couldn’t hear their words. Sirens were coming closer, becoming louder, deafening…

The paramedics arrived out of nowhere to take Molly away from me. I clung to her as they stuck her on a strecher. They pushed me away from her, and as I screamed and struggled, I saw the white ambulance doors slam in my face, separating us. The sirens got quieter and quieter until they were a whisper. I lost control. My lungs were gasping for air as I collapsed onto the freshly-cut grass. Tears rained down my face, obstructing my vision. I lifted my head to glare at the SUV, still positioned in the middle of the road. It had hit Molly. Her life may end because of it.

The next thing I knew, I was on my feet, running towards the beast of a vehicle. I punched it, rammed it with my fists, struck it with the phone in my hand. Molly’s phone… It was still recording.

I fumbled for the key that would end the video. I looked up to find everyone staring at me. My eyes stung from the constant crying. I felt frozen in place, unable to move or speak.

“Amarie.” My mom called softly for me as she pushed through the small crowd. As if a silent alarm had gone off, everyone disbanded into the apartment.

“I… I can d-drive you to the h-hospital… If you w-want,” called a woman, sobbing silently to herself. She, my mother, and I were the only people remaining on the lawn. Mr. and Mrs. Heffler, Molly’s parents, were working. I imagined someone had contacted them already. I would have, but I was sure I would break into violent sobs if I tried to repeat what had happened.

The lady who offered to drive opened the door of the SUV. I couldn’t take it; I let the grief take over. Horrifying moans escaped my mouth. Once I calmed down enough, I spoke.

“I need to see Molly.” I was surprised I had made it through a sentence without breaking down. I climbed into the backseat of the car, and my mom, the passenger seat. I slammed the door as the lady who hit Molly started up the engine. She floored the gas pedal and we moved with a jolt.

“I’m Jenny. I… I’m so sorry… I d-didn’t see her… I… Oh my god, I…” She bursted into tears yet again. My mother patted her on the back. It felt like betraying Molly, but I forgave Jenny. I was too exhausted from the constant sorrow to feel too strongly about anything at the moment. Molly was the only thing on my mind. I gave a quick prayer, hoping this one would reach God in time. By the time I lifted my head and said a soft “amen,” the hospital stood right in front of me. I ripped my seatbelt off, flung the door open, and jumped out before the car came to a complete stop. My feet pounded on the asphalt. I raced to the door and flung it open.

I felt a weakness in my bones. There was a world of sickness in front of me; coughs breaking out from here and there, the pungent smell of vomit, and a young couple crying in the corner, presumably from the recent discovery of a lost loved one. I wondered if I’d have to join them.

I approached the front desk, holding back tears. The receptionist didn’t even look up.

“I n-need to see Molly. M-molly Heffler,” I said in a wavery voice. The man behind the desk ruffled through some files, but kept his face pointing down.

“I’m sorry, I don’t have an account for a Molly Hafter,” he said in a rich British accent.

“No, sir, Molly H-heffler. She was h-hit by a c-car-r-”

“Oh! Heffler, yes. Teen girl, hit by a car, Maeton Road, two forty-six p.m.? No visitors allowed at the moment, sorry. She is in critical condition right now, but I promise, our doctors are doing the best they can.” He added a rehearsed smile to the end. I almost jumped when my mother laid her hand on my shoulder; I hadn’t noticed her. The weight of her hand was becoming heavier by the second, pushing me down until my legs gave up.

The cold linoleum struck my side as I fell. I heard several gasps behind me, but I remained on the floor. I watched as my tears dropped from my eyes to the blue tiles. My hand lay in front of me, still clutching Molly’s phone. The video…

“Amarie? Honey, you need to get up. Come on, we’ll be able to see Molly in a little bit, after the doctors take care of her.” She took my arm and helped me up. She sat me down in one of the waiting room chairs, but I stood up. I paced back and forth between a row of chairs, tears still running. My eyes were like leaky faucets, dripping constantly.

It felt like forever before I heard a man announce, “Are there any relatives or friends of Molly Heffler here?” My heart raced as I stared at the doctor. His expression was blank; there was no way of knowing anything yet. My mother and Jenny stood up. “Please follow me.” I felt like fainting.

He lead us down a long hallway and into a small room with six chairs. “Take a seat.” The doctor smiled kindly, but his expression somehow seemed stern. It scared me. “How are you in relations of Molly Heffler?” Jenny was about to speak, but my mother held up her hand and saved her the trouble.

“Hi, I’m Yvonne Nair, and this is my daughter Amarie. We live in the same apartment as the Heffler’s, and Amarie and Molly were always good friends.”

“Are good friends,” I corrected her. “We still are.” I looked at the doctor.

The doctor looked uneasy. “Were. I’m really sorry. There was nothing we could do; she died in the ambulance on the way over. I’ll leave you alone now. You can stay as long as you like.” He gave a reassuring smile, but I could feel the tears building inside of me; I was going to burst any second.

“I have to use the bathroom. I’ll be r-right back.” I hurried off before my mother could see the river escalating from my eyes. I wasn’t sure where the bathroom was, but I didn’t care. I needed to be alone. Upon wondering around aimlessly, I found a corner hidden behind wheeled medical carts of some sort. It would do. I crawled behind the carts and pulled them into a fort around me. I was still slightly noticeable, but with all the commotion and rush, I doubted anyone would notice me.

I took a deep breath. I stared at Molly’s phone. I was going to do this… I hit the play button.

I started crying right away. Molly grinned at the camera. Her brunette hair swung with the wind. I had the volume off, but I was sure she had said something witty, because the phone was shaking up and down, probably the result of me laughing while filming. It went on for a while, before she finally ran away, and I had to run after her and find her. One of my tears landed on the screen of the phone, and I hurriedly wiped it away just in time to see Molly appear from the side of the building. I had given her the phone.

She ran around the building, looking for me. She didn’t say anything, but she kept smiling at the camera, keeping it aimed at her face. She found me, gave to me, and I took off. We went back and forth three more times before Molly said anything to the camera. But the forth time it was in her position, I saw her mouth begin to move. I paused the video, rewinded it a little, turned up the volume, and then pushed play.

“Amarie… It’s not your fault. If you’re watching this, it means I’m dead. Or going to be.” I gasped and almost dropped the phone, but caught it in time for her next words.

“I’ve been planning this for a while now. Please, don’t blame yourself, or anyone else. It’s not even my parents’ fault. I know this is hard on you, but don’t lose hope. And don’t worry about me too much, okay? Get over me. Evan and I knew what we were getting into from the start. It’s just-” I pressed pause. Evan? Who was Evan? The name sounded familiar. It was probably one of Molly’s school friends. It couldn’t have been someone in our town, or I would know them. I resumed the video.

“-too much pressure. I hope you can forgive me… Goodbye, Amarie. Be strong.” She smiled and then ran off to find me. I stopped the video. The river had become a raging rapid, gushing down my face. I had so many questions… And who was Evan? I went to the record of Molly’s text messages sent and received. I found some for a contact listed under “Evan”. I went to the messages for two days ago. I began to read. Then, with my mouth agape, surprised as ever, I read the last text sent at twelve thirty-two p.m. today.

I frantically searched for the room my mother and Jenny were in. Once I had finally found it, I flung the door open. They must have been having a very serious talk, as they were hugging and crying together, but I interrupted.

“Mom, we have to go. Now!” Before she asked questions, I yanked her out of her seat and escorted her from the hospital. Jenny followed closely behind and jumped into the driver’s seat once we got to the car.

Once I had put my seatbelt on, I read back over the texts. I had read them right. Evan and Molly made a suicide pact.

“Amarie, where are we going?” asked my mother in a surprised but grief-stricken voice. I needed to make sure we got to Evan before he killed himself, as he had sent Molly a text explaining that he would end his life two hours after she did.

And through blurry vision and gallons of tears, I responded simply, “We’re going to save a life.”