Society Killed the Teenager

Regret always comes at the end

I held the knife close to my chest, my heart beating faster. My breath came out in a huff, like I just finished a marathon.

Flickers of the night where Hailey died flashed through my head. I dropped to my knees and crawled up to the foot of my bed, leaning on it.

I closed my eyes and now I could see my mom's face staring down at me. Her beautiful brown hair was framing her face ever so perfectly. Green eyes looked at me with grief. She was shaking her head, a crease forming on her porcelain forehead. I looked at her again, I wondered if I looked as beautiful as her if I didn't dye my hair blonde.

But it was just too much.

When she died, every time I looked in a mirror, I would always see her in me. We looked too much alike. That's why a few days after my mom's death, Hailey and I dyed our hairs. I just wanted to forget,  to put everything behind me. In Hailey's case, her dad died in that shoot out. Her father was just an unlucky bystander who was standing at the wrong place at the wrong time. He liked red on her, so she figured why not have it with her always.

I admired her for that; she wanted the memory of her dad to be with her always. Contrary to what I wanted... I wanted to ditch everything behind, and destroy myself completely. I didn't want any bit of my supposed perfect life anymore.

I drank until I didn't know who I was. I slept all day, and partied all night. I didn't go to school; sometimes I'd wake up in the arms of some guy that I didn't even know. I don't even remember the guy to whom I'd lost my virginity to. It was all I did. 

I hated every single part of me. I felt dirty, unclean.

When I walk down the street, when people recognize who I was, they'd whisper things about me.

Slut.

Rebellious Teen.

Drunkard.

The grief-stricken daughter of Conner Daley Sparks, one of the richest men in the country. They'd say I was as cruel as my father, the girl who used money to get what she wants. 

Yes they were right, and I hated them for that.

Although my family does try to keep me away from those things... My father would drag me out to a party where I would sit glumly at one corner of the room, ignoring the ill whispers about me from the guests. My brothers would play a prank on me if I did something reckless and stupid. Chase,  Ashton and Bryce would try to hang out with me, play games with me when they see that I was sober enough. And my dad urged me back into skating, which I abandoned when mom died. I remember that she was always there at the sidelines cheering me on...

I clenched my hands into fists, my knuckles whitening at the pressure. My right hand holding the knife was beginning to tremble.

Why did she have to die? Why did she have to die in that stupid car crash? My life would still have been perfect if she were here...

But then again, everything that I did have been my choice. And now, my best friend died, because of me. I shouldn't have coaxed her to come, if I just knew what would happen…

She was now just another addition to my list of mistakes.

Whore.

Freak. 

Murderer.

Again they speak about me. I have finally had enough.

 I willed out strength from all the words that they said about me. Every accusation, everything that they spat at my face made me inch the knife closer to my wrist. My heart was beating fast, beads of sweat rolled down my body.