The tale of Emily Thompson

Life. From the moment your born, to the second you die, your life is your own story. You create the chapters that run through its pages and its you that has the supremacy to decide what kind of story it turns out to be. There are the tragic stories, that are full of pain, regrets and eyes that tell the tale of years of sorrow. There are the love stories, that are crammed with declarations of devotion, over used cliché‘s and red faces glowing with happiness. There are also the forgotten stories, the people who left no real mark on the world with the type of book no one can really be bothered to read. But there is something that I can guarantee every story has in common, throughout one of its pages brand new or dusty and old, there will be something that makes the story unique, something that makes it a book you just can’t put down. Unfortunately for me this turn of events was just beginning to develop right at the end of my life. I’m Emily Thompson, and this is the story of how I died.

“Emily watch out!” Best friend and constant worrier Bianca, tugged at my shirt and sent me skidding backwards on the pavement, “That car nearly hit you”
“Hey don’t worry about me, I’m like a cat when it comes to crossing roads, and I‘ve still got 2 of my lives in tact” I grinned, but she was in no mood to be joking
“I mean it Emily, one of these days your not going to be so lucky and a car will just come round that corner and hit you”. She looked really upset, her eyes were all squinty and she chewed her hair in an apprehensive and mournful way, I hated that. Damn that health and safety workshop ever since then I’d had this almost every morning.
“I’m sorry B, I promise I’ll be more safe next time”, I hated to see her sad. I linked my arm into hers and we walked to school like we did every other day, swapping stories we’d both heard hundreds of times, making fun of teachers, trying to guess what today‘s drama lesson would be about and having our usual debate about whether God did exist or not, I said yes of course, but Bianca was a total atheist. When we got to school, Davina came bounding up to us, her usual big grin plastered across her face to show all her pearly white teeth and huge braces, was it impossible for this girl to be miserable? I guess so.

“Hey guys , have you heard? The results for the creative writing contest are out today”. Oh God, that got me. My palms started sweating and I could feel my face boiling up. All I’d ever wanted to be was a writer and this competition was my big chance, the winner got to spend the whole of the holidays on a writing course in Paris. I’d spent hours on my story, hours and hours at my computer changing this word and putting that sentence there, nearly falling asleep with exhaustion but striving to carry on until my work glimmered with perfection. I had made out to everyone that I’d only done it for fun, Bianca was the only one who really knew how important this contest was to me. I didn’t know what I’d do if I lost, well, to tell you the truth I didn’t know what I’d do if I won either but whatever happened today, I knew there would be tears.

I’d tried not to get my hopes up too much, but I couldn’t help it. I wanted this so much it hurt and I couldn’t believe after 1 month, 3 days and 17 hours of waiting the result was finally here.
The rest of that day went as a bit of a blur, science seemed even slower than usual, maths seemed even more confusing and drama just wasn’t in my system that day. When at 2:30pm the voiceover lady finally announced “all people who entered into the creative writing contest  please now go to the main hall” my legs turned to jelly. I turned around and saw Bianca Looking back at me, with the biggest smile she could muster, I tried to reply but only a trace of my voice came out. I then remembered I still had to pretend I didn’t care to everyone else, so I strode out of the drama class with all the energy I could gather and went down to the main hall.

The hall had never looked so uninviting. All those sickly bright colours and pieces of work, (including my own) seemed massively threatening and the chairs felt like rock. I made sure to sit 3 rows from the front so I didn’t look too eager but so I could hear every word the judges uttered. The first half of the assembly was the old rubbish they always declare at prize giving’s, well done everyone, it was really hard to pick blah blah blah. Then came the results. Third place, £10 of book vouchers went to Ben Hault, a year 12 who, by the look on his face had been gunning for first place, haha loser. Second and £25 of book vouchers (I mean, is anyone really going to buy £25 worth of books)? Jessica Ats, year 8 who looked so shocked she might of passed out, well I was glad she’d won she deserved it I thought she always smiled at me in the corridor and said hello, I wonder how many books she‘d get? I bet all her family will be getting books for their birthday for the next..
“And first place, goes to Emily Thompson year 11”… Suddenly I felt all eyes turn on me and for a split second  I was totally bemused to why, then it clicked. I’d won. I’d won. OH MY GOD I’D WON! I was being nudged to get up and shake hands with the judges, was this real? I’d actually done it, I did it, I won, my story was the best and I beat all these people and oh my god I was going to Pairs and my dreams were coming true. My whole future made sense now, I was good at what I loved and now everyone knew it. The plans for my trip were going to be finalised tomorrow morning and for now I was told to go home and be very proud of myself, one of the judges said my story had made them cry, was it really that good? I couldn’t wait to leave now to go home and tell my family, just imagining the look on Bianca’s face when I told her I came first was going to be priceless.

My life would be great from now on, I would become an award winning writer within the year and live in the lap of luxury and have my own column in a newspaper and buy houses in Spain for all my family and then I can write my autobiography and it shall sell millions! Maybe I’ll buy my own island and name it Emilyville..

I rushed out of the school and saw Bianca standing on the opposite side of the road waiting, she caught my eye just as I stepped onto the road, but she didn’t look happy at all, she was yelling something and her face looked really red and puffy, I couldn’t make out what she was doing. All I remember next was crashing into the ground feeling a huge pain in my side and then seeing a distant white light come towards me…

“EMILY!” I screamed her name and hurried to her side, she’d been hit, but she would be ok, she must be it was Emily, she was invincible. Tens of people were milling round her, what were they doing? Had anyone called an ambulance? Where was the driver? Would she be ok? Was she, dead? 
“I can’t feel a pulse…”
“She wasn’t looking where she was going…”
“Hello, I need a ambulance please..”
“She just stepped out into the road, there was nothing I could do..”
I couldn’t take it all in and suddenly everyone around me became a blur and then melted away.

I was on a bench, with a unfamiliar woman, how had I got here?
“Em Emily..”
“Are you ok now dear, you fainted before”
“Where’s Emily?”
The strange woman looked down at the ground and I had an terrible aching feeling that I knew what was coming.
“I’m so sorry she didn’t make it, the paramedic did everything he could…”
“no no please don’t say it”
“I’m so sorry, she’s dead”
“No she can’t be, Emily..” I sat on the bench in shock and then felt a tear creep down my face, followed by screaming and tears of agony and torture. My mind wasn’t there, it was like my whole life had dissolved into this moment, I was in a black hole and all the happiness and laughter had left my body. My inside raced trying to take it in and believe it, she’d gone, so she wasn’t alive and making jokes. I started shaking violently until my mum turned up, she scooped me in her arms and carried me to the car, she couldn’t talk and neither could I.

Emily…

I’ve been told I didn’t get out of bed for three days after the crash,  when I did, I looked terrible. My eyes were bloodshot and throbbing and my hair was half chewed off. The night, for the first time ever, I got to my knees and prayed
“Please God, I know she’s gone but I just need to see her one more time, just to check she’s ok and to tell her I love her, please, I’m begging you”

Five days later, it was her funeral. Mrs Thompson came over to me beforehand and we clung to each other, both crying silently into each others arms. I looked around and saw all these people I knew from school milling around, with none of their usual bounce of life to them, I saw Davina, and for the first time since I’d met her she wasn’t smiling and actually looked miserable. For one great second I forgot where I was and started to laugh. People all around started to stare at me as I looked around for Emily to show her this miracle of life, and then I remembered. That’s when it really hit me she wasn’t here now, I was all alone.

The writing course went to Ben, because Jessica felt that she couldn’t go on it after what had happened, and after a few mournful weeks around school things went back to normal. People were laughing and making jokes as they were on their way to class, girls gossiping and falling out with their friends. Everyone soon forgot about the tragedy. Except for me. I would never forget, that was a promise I made to Emily.

Life. From the moment your born, to the second you die, your life is your own story. I’m Bianca Jones, and this was the story of how I lost my best friend.