Patrick
Twenty-four-years-old | November
Get to Chase.
Don’t tell Hollis.
Everything can be sorted out.
Just get to Chase.
As I drove like a mad man from L.A. to where Chase was in Beverly Hills, all sorts of terrible thoughts crossed my mind. Chase was known to be a prankster, but I didn’t think for a second that this was a joke.
I was sweating and felt like I had a brick sitting in my stomach by the time I arrived at the gate to the neighborhood. I rolled the window down and waved to the gate guard as he greeted me and let me through. He had been one of the gate guards ever since I’d moved in with Hollis’ family during high school. Once I was clear of the gate, it was difficult not to speed down the street to the house that had been the best part of my life. I parked in front of the house, hopped out of my SUV, and fished the house keys out of my pocket as I ran to the door. I rang the doorbell rapidly a few times while I shoved the key into the lock. I doubted anyone else was home, but then a sick thought entered my mind; what if something had happened to his parents?
No.
Not possible.
Kristin and Charles were both at work.
I turned the handle and then pushed the door open. I meant to grab hold of the keychain, but I pushed the door harder than I thought. I wasn’t able to grab the keys as the door swung open and away from me quickly.
“Fuck!” I swore as the door banged into the doorstop. I yanked the key out of the lock and then shut the door. Everything was quiet.
“Chase?” I called out. I walked to the center of the foyer and listened. There wasn’t a response, so I ran into the great room and kitchen.
“Chase!” I raced over to the patio doors and looked out into the yard. The pool looked calm. Good.
I ran to the stairs and took them two at a time as I called his name. There was no sign of him in his room, so I went back out to the hall and called out for him again.
“Pat—” Chase’s faint voice called my name but trailed off coughing. I ran to his bathroom and found him crouched on the floor near the toilet and shower. My eyes immediately went to the side of the toilet where there were streaks of blood. His hair was soaked and when he looked up at me, I could see he was pale, and his eyes looked tired.
“Chase.” As I knelt, a knife on the floor of the shower caught my eye. There was blood on it and some blood smeared on the tile wall. “Chase, talk to me, buddy. What happened?”
He dropped his head, and gut-wrenching sobs poured out of him.
“I couldn’t do it,” he cried.
“What, Chase?”
He held his arm out toward me while keeping his head down. My heart pounded harder when I saw all the blood. His hand was red from smeared blood, and his wrist had a small amount of blood running from a cut. Blood was on his shirt and jeans.
“Chase.”
He released a plastic translucent bottle, and I picked it up to check the contents.Oxycontin.I instantly started thinking about my dad and how he gave me the pills to take the pain away. They just led to problems. Oh my god… How did Chase get these fucking things? I put my hand on his back and tried to focus.
“She’s pregnant. The fucking son of a bitch made us do it, and now he’s cut her out of modeling and…” Chase leaned over the toilet and threw up some fluids. He pounded on his stomach, as if trying to get himself to throw pills up.Fuck.
“Chase, I need to get you to a hospital.”
He nodded.
“I can’t get them up, and I’m so tired.”
“Do you remember how many you took?”
He shook his head and then started to cry again.
