Sirens.

For the last year, it hasn't been Chloe singing me to sleep. Rather, the sound of sirens and her final screams before her life was ripped from her.

Nobody even understands how hard it is to fall asleep to her desperate cries ringing in my ears and echoing in my head, and waking up to find her side of the bed cold and empty. Even a year later, it still burns. All of her clothes have lost her scent. The mentioning of her favorite food still makes me want to vomit.

Despite everyone that's been killed by drunk drivers, idiots still go out drinking and driving. Chloe shouldn't be apart of that statistic. She should be here, with me now, celebrating a year of still being alive. Or I at least should've gone with her. Life is so unfair. The memories of that night still haunt me.

We were so busy yelling about laundry. Of all the things in the world for me to get upset about. Stupid laundry. She had looked over at me for just one second. Only a second. And that's when the truck hit us head on. Everything went black.

After my vision cleared, I remember seeing the tangled mess of my girlfriend. Her body sloppily draped over the steering wheel. She was unable to move, but her voice kept calling out my name. It was loud at first. I kept hearing my name over and over. Until my name switched to "I'm so sorry." over and over. With each time she said those three words, it got quieter and quieter until she said it one last time, and couldn't even get out the last word. I thought I was just blacking out again, then I realized that I was still able to hear. And that I probably just watched Chloe Beale die right in front of me. My Chloe Beale

The sirens were so loud. And as the paramedics were dragging us both from the car, I tried yelling to her. My mouth opened but no noise came out. I felt my heart begin to race, but everyone kept telling to just relax. To just calm down. As if I didn't almost just get murdered. As if none of that ever happened.

I wanted to die instantly. I didn't even get to tell her I loved her. The last thing she heard was me probably yelling about socks or some shit. She didn't deserve that. I messed up, and every day I hate myself. Ive spent more nights away than I have sleeping, and even when I'm sleeping I have nightmares and I-

"I just cant take this anymore. I miss her so much." A long pause followed my words.

"I do too, Beca." Aubrey finally spoke. She had come over for the day, just to keep me company. After Chloe's death, we decided to bury the hatchet, for her sake.

The only sound in the house was the ticking of the clock on the wall. The clock didn't care if Chloe was gone. Even when my world stopped, that dumb clock kept right on ticking on as if nothing happened. Many nights I contemplated taking it off the wall. Throwing it into the backyard. Then all the pictures of Chloe and I surrounding the clock reminded me of her.

"Lost time is never found again." She would always tell me. Then, it would only frustrate me, but now I understand. All the time I wasted while she and I were together. All the time we lost fighting over ridiculous shit. Time that I could've spent loving her. Because had I of known then, that our time was going to be short, I would've spent it a lot differently.

That doesn't even matter. Regardless of how much time you might or might not have with someone, you need to let them know how important they are to you. For someone as lovely and innocent and good as Chloe, I treated her like shit. Now I will never be able to find all that lost time and make up for it.

All I wish for anymore, is just one more day. Just to fix the past and let her know that she is my world.

But now, I guess I'll have to settle for speaking to the stone that marks her grave, where she will be spending the rest of her time.