Car Crash Heart (Pete Wentz FanFiction)

Chapter 1

Christa

        Why is it that whenever I get something amazing that makes my life good for once, it gets ripped from my hands in a second and leaves me there trying to survive Hell? Why can't I just keep one thing that has made my life wonderful every once in a while? Why does this world hate me?

        I took another swig of the vodka bottle I grasped in my hand. It burned my throat but it distracted me from the world for a few seconds. I glanced at the bottle; it only had another sip left in the bottom so I swallowed that down too. I rolled it across the carpeted floor of the living room that held so many memories from the good days. I watched it intently, cringing at the 'ping' noise that seemed to echo through the empty house when the bottle hit one of the four others that were gathering in the middle of the room.

        “Why the fuck didn't you tell me you were upset?! Why didn't you call me?!” I screamed into the air but since I was sobbing uncontrollably and slurring almost every word to the point where it was not even remotely understandable. “Why would you just resort to your pills, Pete?! Why... Whah wouldn't yur tell m' abut...” I couldn't even understand myself anymore. My vision was blurred from tears and the immense amount of alcohol I had consumed in the last two hours, but I needed more to drink.

        I got up with the assistance of the couch I was leaning against and felt my head pounding. Slowly and not so carefully, I stumbled across the room and into the kitchen, barely just catching myself on the counter so I didn't fall. I turned so I looked at the remaining three bottles of scotch I had bought earlier that sat on the counter a few steps away and reached out desperately for them. Of course, I was just barely out of reach of the nearest bottle, so I dragged myself forward a bit to grab it. I didn't even know what it was, nor did I care. I got the top off and took a chug of it; the burn in my throat increasing ten fold from what the last drink had caused. My eyes watered again and I struggled to make my way into the living room again, collapsing over the edge of the couch instead of placing myself in front of it like before.

        I laid there, face down, for a minute before rolling over so I was on my back, stretched out. There was no noise in the room except the overhead fan, which seemed so loud at the moment. I took another drink and hung the bottle over the edge of the cushion. Running a hand over my face and through my hair, my vision started blackening. My phone buzzed in my pocket, but a second after my vision started going, so did my hearing. I lifted the bottle to my mouth one more time, taking a long drink before my body went numb. My arm flopped back down beside me and I heard the bottle hit the ground. I wanted to grab it before it spilled everywhere, but no matter how much I urged my body to roll over, it wouldn't listen to me.

        I opened my eyes as wide as they could go and my hearing tuned into the buzzing of my phone in my pocket. I reached the hand that once gripped the bottle, shaking and still numb, into my pocket to fish out my phone. It was a struggle but I was finally able to get it out and unlock it to see that I had a bunch of messages from Andy, Joe, and Patrick. I hit one of the bubbles and opened it.

        “Hey Christa!” It was from Andy. I started to cry again and managed to send back two simple words.

        “Help me...”

        Just in that moment, the phone fell out of my hand and to the floor, buzzing at the many more messages that were rolling in, and I completely blacked out.