Together

Chapter 1

People often tell me that when they look at the sky, they feel closer to the people they lost. They say that the sky fills them with happiness and joy, that it makes them feel like they never left. But, it doesn't work that way for me. When I look at the sky; I think of regret and sorrow because I know she is gone forever. I know I will never be able to feel her warmth again.

I grab my car keys off the hook near the garage door, spinning them around on my index finger. As I pass by the kitchen island, I glance at the calendar. November 15th— the day she was pronounced dead. It's been five years since Camila Cabello, my girlfriend, passed away. No one really knows how she died, nor did anyone find her body; it's almost like it never happened.

Camila never got a funeral, or a gravestone. One time, about two years ago, I tried to put a small, flat rock with her name carved in it, in the graveyard. This old guy yelled at me to leave, he told me that that I was a pesky teenager trying to steal dead people.

Because stealing dead people is totally my favorite pastime.

I grab an apple from the basket behind my sink, slipping it into my jacket pocket and opening the garage door. I open my car door, sitting down in the driver seat and plugging in the keys. The engines starts up and I look behind me to back out.

I work at the ice skating rink around the block. Since it's the end of fall, the rink has been off the charts with hits. The rink always smells like popcorn, which is strange because we don't sell popcorn. But, it's the best I could get since I couldn't keep up with school. When Camila died, I fell into this weird state of mind where I wasn't depressed, per se, but I wasn't happy either. I was kind of just.. here. So school wasn't my number one priority; keeping myself alive was.

I moved out a few months ago— turning 21 and all. I live by myself, without any pets or anything. I use to have a goldfish, I named him Tom, but he died soon afterwards. I can keep up with the rent; it's pretty easy in the crappy, very small house I live in.

I pull into the parking lot, pulling the lever to turn the car off. I unbuckle and grab the apple from my pocket while opening my door. I walk up to my job, glaring at it with seething eyes. I bring the bright red apple to my mouth and sink my teeth into it, pushing open the door.

The rink is pretty worn down. The counter is grimy and so is the floor. The rink is spotless though, it has to be. The walls are painted a weird, gross green color, making everything seem like it's been covered in vomit. But again, it smells like popcorn which makes it all worth it.

"Lauren!" The lady I work with, Ally, greets me, waving excitedly as I close the door. I raise my eyebrows at her but purse my lips and turn away almost immediately afterwards. I walk behind the counter, biting my apple again before zipping up my jacket. It's always really cold in here, because, of course, they need to keep the ice cold.

"You okay?" Ally asks, bending over to try and see my face.

I grunt, tossing my half-eaten apple in the trash. Running my fingers through my hair, I walk over to my spot near the cash register. Ally places a soft hand on my shoulder, making me turn my head towards her.

"Lauren.." Ally whispers, looking at me with affectionate eyes.

I've know Ally since I've joined this job; I guess I've opened up enough for her to care about me. Ally is a short, friendly person. She has blonde hair, that I think is naturally brown, as little brown streaks run through it. She normally wears a white flannel, very different from my normal black and gray plaid flannel. She is always happy and upbeat, which is probably good for me.

"Yeah?" I ask, my voice cracking slightly.

"Do you miss her?"

I told Ally about Camila about two weeks ago; when we were sweeping the ice. She felt really bad about everything, even though it wasn't her fault. Although, no one knows how she died; so I can't blame anyone except myself for not going with her.