‘Kyle, can you come downstairs please?’ Mum calls from the kitchen.
I roll my eyes. Tiffany is meant to be here in five minutes and knowing Mum, I’ll get a heap of chores loaded on me.
I head off into the kitchen and confusion crosses my face when I see two police officers and a bruised and cut Mr Griffey.
Tears built up in my mother’s eyes and now I’m worried.
‘Mum? What’s happened?’ I ask tentatively.
‘Oh, Kyle.’ She says, tears now fallen on her cheeks, mascara smudging and I’m pulled into a hug. ‘Sit down.’
I take a seat on the arm of the couch and stare at the adults in front of me.
‘Kyle,’ Mr Griffey, Tiffany’s father starts, ‘There-There was a… an accident.’
Confusion clouds my brain and simple thoughts can’t process. An accident? Surely not.
‘I was okay, but Lisa, my wife, and Tiffany… they… they didn’t make it…’ He says, hurt choking his voice.
‘Is this some sick joke?’ I ask outraged.
‘Son,’ one of the burly officers states, ‘Your friend and her mother passed away in the accident. Lisa died in the car and Tiffany passed away a few hours after she arrived at Central Bay Hospital.’
‘You’re sick!’ I yell. ‘You’re all a bunch of sadists!’
‘Kyle, stop this.’ Mum tuts.
‘You didn’t even like her, you hated me so you despised her. Tiffany was supposed to be over now. We… we were going roller skating.’ I say, directing the last part of y outburst to Mr Griffey.
‘Mr Roges, we apologise for your loss.’ Another office simply states.
This can’t be happening. This must be a dream. Tiffany can’t die. Wake up, Kyle, wake up. I pinch my arm as hard as I possibly can. Pain. Oh no, oh no, wake up! I get up and walk into the kitchen. Stab in the leg with a fork. Excruciating agony. If I’m not dreaming then they must be lying. That’s it. Any moment now a camera crew will jump out.
She can’t die. Tiffany was my world. She couldn’t have died. And only today? No. She was so kind and sweet, she can’t have died. That doesn’t happen to people like her.
I collapse against the wall, cradling my knees while I sit on the cold tile floor.
My body shakes as the sobs escapes my lips and racket through my being. We started dating in year nine when we were 15. That’s two years. We were supposed to be an iconic couple that people envied. We planned our life together.  I can’t do this. Things were bad enough when Dad died. He got hit by another car in the middle of the night. He was leaving us, never to return. But he died. I personally think that was a form of karma, but Tiffany? What could she have done?
I feel a presence near me. I glance up, my face wet with salty tears. I hastily wipe away the tears I can only for new ones to stream out. Mr Griffey was standing in the doorway.
‘Who drove the car?’ I ask him.
‘What?’ He seems startled by the abruptness.
‘Who-drove-the-car?’ I seethe.
‘I… I was driving. I lost focus for five seconds and I turned a corner. A truck hit their side, I just had a few grazes… It’s all my fault…’ He mumbles.
‘You’re damn right it’s your fault!’ I yell at him. ‘You killed them! You are an idiot!’ I storm out and find myself walking the streets in agony.
They’re all dirty liars.