I stare at the picture, waves of nostalgia washing over me. We looked so happy, with my blonde hair falling over my shoulders in wavy lengths. I had my classic peace sign and tongue out, not even trying to hide my bright blue braces on my slightly yellow teeth. Her straight brown hair was covering half of her face, but one of her crystal blue eyes was visible, shining as bright as a star. That was the day each of our mothers had gotten together and did our makeup. The gold eyeshadow she had on brought out the flecks in her eyes. Mine was a lot less pretty, the shimmery gray. But we looked so excited, because neither of our moms had allowed us to wear makeup at all, much less in public. I remember that day as clear as it was yesterday. But that was before the accident.

I close my eyes, trying to hold in the tears and the wave of nausea. I hate thinking about it… the crash… the fact that the police never found Aubrey’s body. The police said that it was probably consumed by the fire. I grit my teeth, a shiver running down my spine as I remember the vow each of us made each other. You die, I die. It’s been a year since I’ve broken that vow. We got her moms sharpest kitchen knife and smuggled it up to her room and we both slit a pretty good size cut on our arms and took a blood oath. We found it amazing that neither of our moms ever noticed, given the fact we wore long sleeved shirts for weeks in the middle of summer.

The dam breaks without me noticing and a salty tear leaks into my mouth. I don’t know how I’ve managed the first year of high school without her. I don’t know how I’m going to go to college without her. We had everything planned - renting an apartment, getting breakfast at Chic-fil-a or McDonald’s in the old black Chevy she would have before school each day, coordinating our outfits so that they were similar but not the same. I don’t know how I’m going to manage. She was my best friend for ten years and… and…

My phone buzzes with the familiar ringtone me and Aubrey picked out and I jump, slowly picking it up. It’s an unfamiliar number, which I normally wouldn’t answer and would dismiss to spam, but it is not normal circumstances. So I hit the green button and hold the phone up to my ear. “Hello,” I say, furrowing my brows at my unnaturally hoarse voice which makes it sound like I’ve been crying. At the reminder I wipe the tears off of my cheeks and close my eyes.

Heavy breathing is the only thing audible on the other end for many seconds and the only reason I don’t hang up is because of the very curious and nosy part of me that has to know everything. But when the person finally speaks, it’s a voice I would recognize anywhere.

“Kelly, you have to help me,” she says.

I gave at my phone, slowly turning it up all the way and putting it on speaker. “Aubrey?” I whisper, putting a shaky hand to my mouth which is wet with tears. “You’re dead.”

“No I’m not, and I have a lot to explain to you, but I need you to meet me at Harrington Road as soon as you can. Oh, and bring weapons.”

Weapons? Static starts to fizz from the other end and I press the phone up against my ear. “Aubrey?! Bring weapons- what?! Aubs, what’s going on?!”

“Please,” she says, and the static drowns out the next few words she says. But they sound a heck of a lot like ‘I’m going to die if you don’t.’