I sneered. Powers of persuasion, my butt… brainwashing freak, more like.
“You’ll look fabulous,” she winked at me and plopped down on the sectional. I’d lost her to a brainless show on the wide screen TV.
Me: Guess what?! I’m going to a Halloween party!
Kylie: What are you dressing up as?
Me: Dorothy. Me and my friends are doing the Oz thing, like we did a few years ago. Remember?!
Kylie: Do you have the ruby shoes?
Me: Of course.
Kylie: Is cute boy going to be there?
Me: Yes… probably. (blushing)
Kylie: Have fun! Gotta go… piano lesson.
Me: xx
Kylie: xx
From:Calista Summers
To: Annabelle Jenkins
Subject: Hi
Hi Anna,
I’m so sorry I haven’t messaged in a while -- life’s been busy. I suppose I’ve also been stalling.
I don’t have too much planned for Halloween, but definitely will be trick or treating with Charlotte. I’ve already got us our matching bee costumes. Samantha will come with us and my dad will stay home and hand out candy.
Samantha and I have come a long way this past year. A year ago, she wouldn’t even look at me. And I really couldn’t blame her.
Charlotte was all smiles after her Mommy & Me art class. I was hungover and feeling like hell. I tucked her safely in her car seat and kissed her on the forehead. I was super careful as I drove back home. I’d only been driving for about a year and a half, and I could finally drive without a chaperone. My cell rang but I let it go to voicemail. Despite my splitting headache and worries, the drive was nice. The weather was gorgeous.
My head was pounding when I drove up our driveway. As soon as I turned the ignition off, I checked my phone and there was a message from Christian. We’d had a fight the night before over another guy he was jealous of, and it was all I could think about.
I was ready to call him back when I heard his bike. As soon as he cut the engine, I ran to him and apologized. I didn’t really know what I was apologizing for because I hadn’t really done anything wrong.
He was still drunk, and stoned. He was a mess. I told him to come into the house. I coddled him for the next twenty, thirty minutes, fifty minutes? Hour? To this day, I don’t know how long she was left in the car.
The memory of that moment will never leave me, the moment I remembered her. That horrible second when I remembered that I’d left little Charlotte in the car, engine off, windows up, the Indian summer sun blaring down on Samantha’s black minivan.
I sprinted out of the house, completely hysterical. When I got there, she was unconscious, hot, sweaty, clammy, and completely lifeless. I knew she was still holding on, but I didn’t know for how long. I called for an ambulance right away. I unbuckled her and took her in my arms, and took her inside the house – my dad always cranks the air conditioning. I didn’t know what else to do. I had no CPR training, and I didn’t even know if that would be of use.
I stroked her hair and cried. I kept whispering in her ear, “Please be okay, sweetie,” over and over again. Christian just stood there, speechless. When he finally spoke, all he said was, “You left her in the car?! What the fuck?!” Then, he grabbed his jacket and ran out of there. “I gotta go. I can’t be around cops right now.”
Thankfully, the emergency responders were quick. When they showed up, I ran outside. I handed Charlotte over to one of the paramedics, and crumbled to the ground. I could barely function, or answer their questions.How long had she been left in the car?I didn’t know.How old was she?I knew the answer but I blanked. The paramedics, the police, and the fire department – they were all there. And I was going out of my mind.
I’ll let you go for now, but I promise to tell you the rest next time.
Calista
From:Annabelle Jenkins
