She’s not the type to party. Not the type to drink, or have a boyfriend. Not even the type to get an A- on anything. She was a gorgeous girl. Belle . Me, Paris was Belle’s best friend, that is, until the night of October 2nd.













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“Come on! It’ll be fun, it’s Courtney's party!” I explained.
“I don’t know, Paris. I have never been to a party, and I just don’t know.” She refused. I dragged her by the wrist downstairs.
“She hosts the best parties ever!” I told Belle. I pushed her out the door of my garage. I proclaimed,
“We’re going shopping for new outfits for tonight.” We jumped into my convertible. I blasted the radio and pulled out of the driveway. About ten minutes later we pulled into the parking lot of Rough Edge. As Belle and I got out of the car I saw Belle’s mouth drop. She hates that place.
“No. I am not shopping here.”
“Yes, you are!” I pulled her into the store. The music was loud, ringing in my ear. I went to the XS rack, grabbed a bunch of clothes her size and shoved her into a dressing room. She first came out in a mini pencil shirt and tube top that was the color of the sun.
“Dang, this skirt is shorter than my underwear!” she whispered.
“No, it’s not that short,” I said. She walked back into the dressing room and then came out with shorts that were the same length as the skirt and a peach colored tank top.
“Fine, I'll get this,” she sighed and walked back into the dressing room. We bought the clothes and walked back out to my car.

“See? That wasn’t as bad as you thought it was going to be,” I said.
We drove back home and went to my bedroom. I told her to go put on her clothes on. Belle came out of the bathroom. She looked good; the only thing missing was make-up and hair. I took her back into the bathroom and fixed her makeup while the straightener. Once it was hot, I pulled her hair strand by strand through the hot plates and watched the steam rise to the ceiling. Finally, her hair was pin straight and her make-up matched her outfit.
“Ready to go?” I asked.
“I guess so,” she replied.
We walked out to my car. Once we got to the party we could hear the bass bumping all the way from my car. We stumbled into her house. My friend Matt came over to us
“Hey, Paris!” he yelled as he hugged me.
“Hi,” I replied.
Belle started walking over to where everyone was dancing. Matt handed me a beer. I popped it open and took a big sip. I walked away leaving Belle to try to have fun on her own. I went back to where Matt was at and grabbed another beer, and another, and another. After I had drank 5, I felt loopy and crazy. I couldn't find Belle anywhere. I then found her sitting on the stairs with a glass of water. I yanked her hand and her water went everywhere.
“AHHHH BEST PARTY EVER!” I screamed.
Belle stared at me.
“Paris, take me home... now,” she said sternly.
“AHHKAYY!” I yelled again.

I was drunk. But Belle didn’t notice so she hopped into the car with me. She strapped on her seat belt, I left mine hanging by my door. I sped out of the driveway and turned the radio to loud. We were speeding down the road at least 20 over.
“Whoa, slow down.” Belle held onto her seat belt.
“I’m fine,” I disagreed.
We approached a stop sign but didn’t slow down.
“PARIS! STOP!” Belle yelled.
It was too late. The semi-truck, the headlights, the darkness, and the silence. It happened so fast. The next thing I remember I was laying on the cold cement. My head killed. I could hear sirens blaring and the bright lights of the ambulance and cop cars. I sat up.
Belle. I remembered.
I look to where our car was. It was flipped over on the ground not ten feet from me.
“BELLE!” I yelled.
No response. My eyes started to tear up.
“BELLE!” I tried again.
Silence. Tears came pouring out of my eyes.
“Be-ll-e...” I tried to say crying.
I attempted to stand. My ankle gave way. I lay there, sobbing. Just as I felt the cold ground hit my cheek, a medical officer raced to my side with a stretcher. They lifted me onto it. I glanced to where my car lay flipped with Belle still inside. There had to be about 4 officers over there.
“Is Belle okay?” I asked the officers that were carrying my stretcher.
“I don’t know Hun, we will let you know as soon as we know,” he said very sweetly.
I saw the officers pull Belle out of the car. They laid her body on stretcher. All I could see was her deep red blood, covering the white sheets and the officers that put her on the stretcher.


I cried harder. Belle and I were both put on different ambulances. The ride to the hospital was the longest time of my life. All I could think about was Belle. When we got to the hospital I fell asleep immediately. I awoke the next morning to my parents talking to my doctor. I had shattered my ankle and got a bad concussion.
“Doctor, w-where’s Belle?” I stuttered.
He whispered something to my parents and they left the room. He came over and sat next to me on the hospital bed.
“Paris, listen. Belle. She....she’s not here, she’s....”
“No....no... there’s just no way.” i said.
“Hun, the impact to Belle’s head hitting the ground when the car flipped was too much. She was killed on the scene.” he said.
“NO, NO!” I screamed. I threw my covers off and tried to stand.
I fell to the ground forgetting about my ankle.
“You can’t get up. Get back in bed now,” he told me.
“NO!” I screamed as I pushed passed him grabbing my crutches.
He let me go. There was nothing he could do.

I opened the door and ran out crying.
“Belle!” I yelled. “Belle, Belle, Belle!” I screamed down the hall.
Bawling now, I came to reality and realized Belle was gone. Forever. I collapsed on the ground and leaned against the wall. My parents came running to my side. They sat down next to me.
“You okay, pumpkin?” My dad asked.
“No, Belle.. she’s gone.” I said. “It’s all my fault. I’m the one who dragged her to this party, I'm the one who got drunk, I'm the one who ran the stop sign and got her killed.” I sobbed.
My parents helped me back onto my bed in the room. I stared out the window next to the hospital bed I was on. Life is going to be so different. I remember lots of things that me and Belle did. Picking out homecoming dresses, criticizing other dresses in stores, helping a little boy find his mom. I remember making fun of peoples outfits as they walk by us in the mall. I love Belle, she’s the best thing to happen to me. When my parents divorced she was always there when I cried. She always knew when something was wrong. She had the best advice ever. We’d sit in my bedroom til 2am watching all the Twilight movies, popping popcorn in my mini microwave, burning it, and making the house smell like black popcorn. We made cookies for her presidential campaign at school, writing “vote for Belle” over and over again in neon green frosting. We’d sit in math class making faces behind our teachers back. We went out every Friday for lunch at Subway. Watching her go is going to affect me so much. Who was I going to talk on the phone with until 3am about boys, my parents, school, and friends. Who would I go shopping with? Who would I going to go tell when I got accepted to a college? I still don’t know how to act, or even where to go from here. I’m lost.













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