Chapter Four

I was on my way back from the park. Joe and I were talking and holding hands and laughing. We were in the middle of debating whether Spongebob or Tom & Jerry was a better cartoon when my phone rang. I looked at the caller ID: Dad.

"Hey, Daddy," I answered.

"Hey, Honey. Um, something's happened. I need you to come here now."

"Dad, is everything okay?"

"No, Honey. Just come home, okay?"

"Okay."

I hung up with my dad and let go of Joe's hand. I bolted away from him without even giving him an explanation. I felt bad for that, but there was definitely something wrong. The last time I got a call like that from Dad, I found out my mom had been diagnosed with lung cancer. I knew something awful had happened. Dad had never sounded so upset before.

When I got to my parents' house, I was completely out of breath. I got a drink quickly, then I joined my dad and my brother Jack in the living room. Their eyes were puffy and red, as if they had been crying. I sat down to face my dad.

"Dad," I looked up at me, but he didn't say anything. He knew I already knew what had happened.

"She's gone, isn't she?" I asked.

"Yeah. We got the call at 4:15," Dad replied.

I tried to say something else, but the words just wouldn't come out. I couldn't breathe. My throat burned. My heart ached. I couldn't stop the tears from falling. I knew this day would come, so I half expected it. But not today. Why today? Why couldn't it have been another day? Why did she have to go? Why did she have to be cursed with cancer? She was a good woman. She didn't deserve to die in such a horrible manner. She didn't deserve to suffer. Why did God punish her?

I couldn't take it. I just didn't understand why my mom had been taken from me. I felt horrible. While I was off kissing a boy, my mom had died in a hospital bed. Joe had called four times already, but I hadn't answered. After I got the news, I ran over to my apartment and shut myself in my bedroom, just crying hysterically. I tried to stop crying. I wanted to stop. I just couldn't.

One of the best days of my life had just turned into one of the worst.

Correction, the worst.

A Week Later

Sometimes, when the pain got to be too much and I didn't wanna talk to anyone, I wrote in a journal. Here's what I wrote that day:

August 15

It's been a week since Mom died. It's been a week since Joe and I started going out. I haven't spoken to him. I haven't spoken to anyone. I just can't deal with it. I lock myself in my room and I don't do anything. I just lay in bed and sob. I try not to think about it. I don't wanna think about it. I just can't help but think about it. I miss Mom. I wish I could've seen her one more time before it happened. So I could hug her one last time, and tell her how much I love her. I wish she were still here. She was one of the only people I could talk to when I had a problem, or even just a question. And now she's gone. How could God be so damn cruel? Joe has called me 67 times so far. I wanna answer, I really do. I try to answer his calls, I just can't bring myself to hit the Send button. Oh, if he only knew how much I really love him.

I was feeling a little better. Writing had really helped me deal with the pain. It was my way of…I don't know, venting, I guess you could say.

August 15th. Another day I wouldn't forget.

It was the day I finally got the strength to get out of bed.

It was also the day I finally called Joe back.

I couldn't get an answer on Joe's cell phone, so I called the house phone. But it wasn't Joe who answered. It was Nick.

"Hey, Nick," I said.

"Hi, Karie. How are you holding up?"

"I'm doing a little better. I got out of bed today. Wait- how did you-?"

"Your brother. Joe called him because you didn't answer his calls. We're all very sorry for your loss. If you ever need to talk, we're all here for you."

"I appreciate that. Is Joe home?"

"No, he's out celebrating with some friends."

"Celebrating? Celebrating wh- Oh my gosh! His birthday! How could I forget his birthday?"

"I'll have him go over there when he gets home."

"Thanks, Nick."

"Yep. Hey, Karie, would you wanna come over for a bit? I need to talk to someone."

"About what?"

"Well, I don't really wanna say over the phone."

"Nick, you can tell-"

"I've done something bad, K. Real bad. I just really need you to come over."

"Okay, I'll be right over."

Something bad? Nick Jonas did something bad?

Is that even possible?