Authors Note: Got this random idea, and started writing. If you like my writing read my other story Finding The Peace.

Mending My Heart

Scar On My Heart

You know how people are always saying it's the little but important things in life you remember best?

For me, it seems to be the opposite.

Sure, I remember the little things. Like the time when I went to the store and got a jug of milk because we ran out. Or the time when I fell and scraped my knee when I was four and was fully convinced I was going to die.

With those moments, I remember every little detail, despite the fact that it was so long ago.

But the important moments, I can barely remember. And if on the off chance I remember them, it seems like I wasn't in them, but a character in a book was.

I would like to think that. It wasn't me who was there, it was a character in a book.

As horrible as most of those moments are, I still wished I was able to remember them.

Like when my mother passed away. Or when my brother and I were driving down the road and got hit by a drunk driver. And only one of us survived.

I always wonder if things may have been different if my mother had died before the Accident. Yes, capitalized. The Accident. Would Alex, my brother, and I still have decided to sneak out from home if we didn't even have a mother? Maybe we would have. But than again, maybe we wouldn't have.

I wish I could just remember even a few details about the last night with Alex. I do remember, however, that he knew ever single song that was played on the radio. Not just the course, but the whole song. Each and every lyric. Unfortunately, I can never seem to remember which songs played. I know there were tons that played, but I can't even seem to remember one of them. I have searched through every single song known to man kind, but none of them seem to fit.

No, I wasn't intoxicated that night. Alex and I had both decided not to drink anything, because mom would kill us. Not like dad would give a damn, though.

I would like to think I was intoxicated that night. It would have been a reason for me not remembering much from that night. If I had been, would it have been worse? Better?

Probably better, though I hate to say that. If I had been drunk, I probably wouldn't remember the one thing I remember clearly about that night.

The horrified look on Alex's face before the drunk driver drove into him.

The look had told me – and still did tell me – so many things at once. If he had had time to say something, I'm sure he would tell me he was going to die.

It wasn't like we couldn't tell. That vehicle was going twice the speed limit, according to the police who were chasing the vehicle, so there wasn't really a chance for Alex to survive.

They were even surprised that I survived, even though I was trapped in the hospital for months.

I can't remember much about the hospital either, even though it was one of the most important times in my life. One of the worst things I remember is thinking Alex was still alive, just a few rooms over.

I hadn't just thought this because I wanted it to be true. I wasn't too badly damaged, so the next morning my friends had been allowed to come visit me.

I would have liked to consider myself 'popular' back than. Maybe I was. I did have quite a few friends, but not really and best friends. Only one best friend. Alex. Nobody else seemed to care I was best friends with my brother though, they just treated him like everybody else.

First thing I asked my friends was if Alex was alright. They had replied with many different words, all saying "Perfectly fine."

Maybe that was what had helped me heal so fast. Knowing that Alex was healing as well.

A few days later, my parents had came to visit me. I wasn't surprised it took them so long. My mother was always flustered, always behind schedule. And she had been half way around the world when The Accident happened. So obviously news would have to travel there through my father before she even had a clue.

My father.... not really somebody to give a damn about anything. I'm surprised he is still around. I thought he would leave the moment my mother died. Anyways, he is an alcoholic. Now that seems to work in my favor. But back than, I hated it.

So, my parents come in. My mother's eyes are all red and puffy. Obviously she was crying, but that isn't surprising. She cried about everything.

When they come in, I immediately ask when I can see Alex. My mother starts crying even harder than before. My dad simply says "You don't. He's dead."

When I first heard that, I was like what? Is this some kind of joke? You've got to be kidding, right?

But my mother's silent weeps clarified it for me. He really was dead.

And on this day, I still believe it's my fault.

All of the doctors tell me it was nobody's fault. Which is a lie. Obviously it's somebodies fault. Why not mine? I will gladly take the blame. It's not like anybody else would willingly take it.

Maybe things will get better....

Wait, that's not possible. That's like thinking a scar on your heart will heal over time.

Whoever said time heals all wounds was horribly mistaken.

Time will never heal this wound.

Authors Note: Like it? If so, review, than read my other story to help you wait for next chapter.

:) -Emma