❝her love was engrossing,
rampant, and enliving.
so much that,
she became an indispensable
part of him.❞
-j.o
After two tragedies that struck her deep into a depressive state, Carter...
"Get up, Carter. The taxi is leaving!" Margaret Harmon shouted at her oldest daughter as she sat in her bed, fingers typing away on her laptop. Carter's friends were all messaging her about the move, telling her they would miss her, but she didn't necessarily believe them. After Bailey Frost, her best friend in the whole entire world, passed, they all became distant. She scrolled through the nonsense until her mother appeared at the door, hand gripping her– the door frame. "Get. Up," she hissed, grabbing the red suitcase by the door and jerking it out of the room. The strawberry blonde groaned loudly, complaining about the idiocy behind the move, until her hyperactive little sister jogged right up behind her.
"Why are you so grumpy?" Heather questioned, her lion teddy held tightly to her chest. "I'm not," Carter replied back, rolling her eyes skyward. She was already dressed in a pair of jeans and a nice floral blouse, her hair in natural waves, and her makeup light. Kaitlin, her lone girl friend, was supposed to stop by and say goodbye, but she was too busy crawling up her boyfriend, Scott's ass to even remember that Carter was leaving. So, Carter put her laptop in its case and slung the strap over her shoulder before following Heather out of the door. Her heart was thumping against her chest as she tried to hold back tears. That was her life, and all of her childhood memories.
The night she and Jackson fell in love happened in the secret room across Heather's bedroom. The day she fell out of the treehouse and Bailey promised not to let her die there alone happened right out in the backyard, yet that happened six weeks before her own death. The night she got sick and Kaitlin and Scott came over and brought her all types of movies to cheer her up happened just downstairs, the three of them sitting on the leather couch opposite the huge, box television. Her family was there, and now she was just leaving them all behind, one left in a grave. Carter walked through the house, her fingers running gently along the pink wallpaper. Every memory came back like a sad little slideshow they show at someone's wedding, or even at viewings. She stumbled through the living room, standing at the front door.
