When we reached the other island, we all stood on the beach until we were all back.
All of us except for her.
She never showed up.
I didn't care at first, I had Gwen now, and Courtney was probably just trying to get some cheap publicity for herself.
I thought she would show up in a week.
But then one week became two weeks, and two weeks became a month, and one month became five months.
And the search team stopped looking.
I cried when I found out.
I was hanging with Geoff when Bridgette arrived, with tear-stained cheeks and puffy red eyelids. She'd been crying.
Bridgette never cries.
She handed over the magazine in her hand. I opened it, and Geoff wrapped his arms around Bridgette and looked over my shoulder.
I heard him whisper, "No. Not little Mocha."
I couldn't reply. I just stared at the headline.
Courtney From Total Drama
Dead
I just muttered, "I've got to go." I had to leave before the tears spilled over. I'm not a man of tears, but when I got home and sat down on my bed, that was the hardest I've cried since I was born.
Courtney. Princess. So tough, so fearless, a consummate survivor. My Courtney. My Princess. Dead. Died. Gone.
I cried myself to sleep every night for three years.
What made it worse was the fact that she hadn't been found. Which meant, no funeral. No gravestone. No chance for me to say goodbye to her. No way for me to tell her I loved her one last time.
I regret it happening like this. I wish it hadn't taken her death for me to realise that I wanted her.
That I didn't want her out of my life.
That I needed her the way I need air and water and food.
I wish it hadn't taken her death for me to realise I loved her.
Ok, this is my first story, so be nice, but I'd like you to tell me if I suck at writing and should never type on a keyboard or pick up a pencil again. :) RJxx