Beginning of Novel

I'm alone. A 17 year old girl alone on the streets of New Orleans. I remember everything perfectly. I was in my room late at night watching some horror movie; my parents were out for dinner. I fall against the brick wall and light a cigarette letting the smoke float around me. Sitting in the ally next to an old bar I can’t help but let the memories come back to me. I started to paint my nails when I heard a bang on the door downstairs, since it was one in the morning I wasn't really expecting someone to come visit. It could have been the crazy old lady who lives next door coming over to ask weird questions. I opened the door and that’s when my heart sunk. The police, the car crash, and both my parents dying, that’s all I really comprehended before I collapsed into sobs. The police come by a couple times a week to check on me until I move in with my uncle. I can’t go, I don’t want to live with someone who is just going to sit there and pity me for my loss. I rub my cigarette bud across the wet concrete and headed back into the bar. I was wet from the light rain that just began. A friend of mine like a year ago gave this fake ID for my birthday. I never really used it until the death of parents. I decided that I was just going to drink my night away until I became numb. I was always close with my parents; I mean I was their only child. My mom was like a best friend to me. I was never great at making friends; I didn't want to make friends. They bring to much drama and most people wouldn't understand me anyway. I never really had a boyfriend either for the same reason; I’m not good at letting people into my mind. I down another shot and decide to head back to the house. Everything was foggy, I felt like I was in a dream. I walked along the street thinking about how I was going to my uncles, I couldn't let that happen. I had to leave, I had to run, and I had to start my life over.
I drunkenly ran into my room and started throwing things into my bag. By the time I got home anger took over me. Alcohol and anger is one thing you should not mix, I couldn't help it though. I picked everything breakable up and threw it against the walls. My parents died, they left me alone, and I was officially nothing. I ran into the bathroom and grabbed my razor and slid it across my wrist, I loved the way it looked, so red. I started to cry again, I finally finished packing and grabbed the car keys. I got into my old Jetta lit a cigarette taking off into nowhere.
I ended up pulling into an old parking lot and sleeping I knew drinking and driving was probably not a good idea. I dreamed of dying. I died many different times during my sleep, the worst way I was in the car with mom and dad, I died with them. Maybe I should have died with them, it would be less pain. I wake to the sound of something rolling across the blacktop. I pull my long brown hair up and rub my exhausted eyes. I was actually running away. I don’t really know where I was going to go, just as long as it was far from here and no one could find me.
“Are you ok?” A voice disrupted me from my thoughts. I looked over to see a boy with a skate board under his arm. He has longish black hair, and light green eyes. He was wearing a Green day shirt and black fitting jeans. He also had his lip pierced. I rolled down my window to talk to him.
“Uh yeah, just fell asleep. Sorry,” I said kind of embarrassed. I don’t really know what I was sorry for I just needed to get of this situation.
“Going somewhere?” he asked eyeing my bag filled with clothes.
“Not really sure where, I just need to leave town”