The Sweetest Berry

Chapter One - Bella

 My alarm rings, blaring the most annoying sound ever. I groan and mumble something like "shut up" and smack a rectangle silicone button on the top of my radio alarm clock. I cough, as the dust circulates in the air. I gently shut the windows. I tiptoe downstairs, careful not to wake anyone up. I hear the familiar sound of paper being thrown against our rickety front door. I wait for the sound of pedaling and ringing bicycle bells to slowly become faint, so the paper boy doesn't see me. I swing the door open letting the cool summer breeze take me in. I grab the paper at my feet and pray. It can't be. Not again. Hundreds of government officials had visited our town, Haling Cove, to find out why so many of us were dying off. They don't have a specific cause, since the deaths are all different. None, not a single one, could even help find out the cause. This has been going on for about 6 months. I unrolled the newspaper, crossing my fingers that it was something positive, and read the front page:

Mayor's Sister's Family Dead. Autopsy Shows Poisoning.

My heart skips a beat and my legs almost cave in, giving me a jelly-life feeling. There's a weird feeling in my heart, like feelings for someone that died, but they weren't friends with you. This became a repetitive feeling after thousands of people died in this town. Second of all, they can't be serious that it's actually poisoning. That was the newest reason that would come in the paper. Poisoning is the best blame people have now. I can't believe anything in the paper anymore. I just want to go back to my old life. Maybe this is all just a big dream. Maybe this is all just a big fad. I wish I had moved to Swekenfield when Dad had asked me to.

The wind rushes into my eyes and I can feel myself starting to tear up. I can't cry. It will only make me more weaker than I am now. I can't talk about it and I hate even thinking about it, but one of my best friends, Kristie, passed away two months ago. We'd met in third grade and never left each other's sides, until now. She left me all alone in this cruel world. We'd ditched our classes at college so we could have lunch in North Haling Cove at a little cafe called The Acapella Kitchen, one of my favorites. Kristie had ordered the most delicious-looking PB&J with some coffee and I had ordered some pasta. Completely unlike her, Kristie had one PB&J sandwich after another. She had ordered and eaten 5 in total that day. She did track and swimming, as well as volleyball and cheerleading, so she was always slim.

She barely eats lunch, and she came here completely against her will. I'd forced her to have lunch with me. It was all my fault that she passed away. I'd told her to stop eating, but obviously, she didn't. She never had any allergies that I'd known about, but this seemed different than just a simple allergy. As we were walking out of the parlor, she seemed a little queasy to me, but she said she was fine. As we were walking, she tripped on the uneven edge of the sidewalk and hit her head on a large stone and she bled profusely. I was bawling and many people walked and stood, surrounding me, and everyone was trying to help me to get an ambulance to take her to the hospital. As the ambulance arrived, before we even got halfway to Haling Cove Hospital, she passed away. They said she was losing more blood than they could put back in every second. The day Kristie's parents were holding the funeral, both her parents died while drunk driving. I don't even think her family drank at all. I'd never ever seen a bottle at their house. They were probably sober. I can't keep thinking about this. I'm going to cry.

I hear a loud thud behind me, interrupting my thoughts, even though I'm glad it did, I turn my head to see my mom lying on the floor, drunk, with a half-finished bottle of beer. I rush to help her up, even though I have no sentiment for her. She missed most of my childhood - of course, my younger twin sister, Donna's, too.

"I thought you promised me that you wouldn't get drunk all week.", I narrowed my eyes and glared at Mom.

Dad and Donna bolt down the stairs to see what all the commotion was. Dad gave me the "you-need-to-calm-down" look and Donna gave me a stare that clearly reads "give her a break". I probably resent Mom the most in my family. Dad, obviously, can't do anything but help her. He's too nice to be mean to his own wife. Donna, she's a whole new story. She's the nicest to Mom, always with her. She's making me feel bad for not helping Mom. I can't love Mom anymore. It's just not part of me anymore. Dad walks down the hallway, giving me hand signals that makes out "We're talking about this later".