Four Deaths + One Family = Not Good

Cole was all she had. All she would ever have.

Troy was all she needed. All she would ever need.

Beck was all she wanted. All she would ever want.

And that was her downfall.

---

Three years ago, Cole Lockwood sat in front of the desk that was placed in the corner of his room. Country music played faintly from some other area of the house. Most likely from his mother. He crumpled his paper, ruining yet another science experiment idea.

“Argh! This dang assignment is going to kill me!” Cole tossed the crumpled-up paper in his small trash can, which was already overflowing from his previous failures.

“Cole! Stop yelling!” Freya, Cole’s sister, cried. She was across the hall in her room, probably texting with her new boyfriend. How Cole hated Joe Pedesko. He acted like he was better than everyone else.

“Stop being such a idiot!” Getting up from his desk chair, Cole sighed. He shuffled over to the bedroom door and slammed it closed. His breathing was labored. He could feel anger rising within him. 

After just standing in the middle of his room and clenching his fist, then un-clenching them, Cole went to the large window. Without realizing what he was doing, Cole opened the windows and put one leg out. Then the other leg was out. Now Cole was sitting on the window sill. His hands were holding the ridge tightly.

He jumped from that third-story window.

Cole Lockwood met the ground, dying instantly.

---

Two years ago, Troy Lockwood stood next to his brand new car, which was parked in the driveway of his girlfriend’s home. She was standing there, her face showing pure awe.

“Wow, Troy! I can’t believe it! Can we take it for a ride? Right now? Okay, sorry, I’m getting too excited. But I’m so happy for you!” Vanessa cried. When she ran over and kissed Troy on the cheek, he smiled wider than he had before.

“Well, who says we can’t take it for a ride, right now? Hop in.” Troy gestured to the passenger side seat, and Vanessa slid into the black Toyota Camry.

The inside of the car was all leather, and the radio was a touch-screen. The amount of leg-room in that car could’ve fit ten people!

Troy hopped into the driver’s side, closing his door before putting the key into ignition. Once he did, though, lights shone bright as everything came to life. Vanessa gasped in amazement. When you live on a farm, you don’t see anything like that much at all.

“Where to?” Troy queried as he pulled out of the driveway. He turned the wheels way to the right, and in seconds they were off on the road.

“I don’t know. Let’s just drive and see where it takes us.” Vanessa reached over and put her hand on Troy’s shoulder. Her boyfriend sped up the car, taking turns every chance he got. Every once in a while, Vanessa would shriek in excitement from how fast the car went.

After a half-hour, Troy and Vanessa were in the car, on the Golden Gate Bridge. It was rush hour, so everyone was bumper-to-bumper. Despite that, Troy was glowing in the fact that he was able to impress Vanessa with his car.

The couple was just about ready to get off the bridge when the car in the front of them slammed on its brakes. Troy didn’t have enough time to press his, and his car collided with the one in front. Soon enough, it was a chain reaction and every car was hitting every car.  Troy spun the steering wheel this way and that, trying to avoid as many cars as possible, but it was impossible. Before either him or Vanessa could stop it, they were heading towards the side of the bridge.

The car went into the water.

Troy Lockwood and Vanessa Goodman passed away.

---

One year ago, Beck Lockwood walked through the Wal-Mart aisles, grabbing different groceries as he went along. Beck was in charge of grocery shopping once a week for his family. Today was no different.

He was in the cold section, looking for soy milk for his younger sister Freya. Apparently, it was healthier, and Freya needed the healthiest thing possible. For everything.

“Soy milk, soy milk. Soy, soy, soy,” Beck mumbled. “Aha!” He opened one of the fridge doors and pulled out a carton of soy milk, setting it down in the cart. Pushing the cart forward, grabbing more groceries, Beck sighed. Today also happened to be his mother Trisha’s birthday. She was turning forty, and Beck knew that she deserved an amazing party. Therefore, he was in charge of getting a cake, ice cream, cupcakes, and steak with shrimp (Trisha’s favorite).

“Hi! Can I help you with anything?” A young woman waved at Beck, smiling. He waved, smiled back, and nodded.

“Hello. Um, yeah, actually. Can you tell me where the steak seasoning would be?” Beck queried. He glanced around the grocery story, looking for any sign that told him where the seasonings would be.

“Oh, of course! Aisle Ten, right over there.” The young woman pointed to the right, towards Aisle Ten. Beck nodded, and left with a “Thank you!”. 

As Beck neared the aforementioned aisle, there was a loud voice yelling over the speakers.

“EVERYONE! THIS STORE IS NOW GOING UNDER A LOCK DOWN! GO TO THE STORE ROOM LOCATED IN THE BACK! HURRY! RED ALERT!” the man screamed. Beck’s eyes immediately darted everywhere, viewing all of the people that were shrieking and running towards the back of the room. Without knowing exactly what was happening, Beck abandoned his shopping cart and started to run with the rest of the crowd.

The next thing he knew, there were tens of people falling to the ground. Beck knew what caused it by the next sound he heard.

Bang! Bang! Bang bang bang!

Gunshots. He was halfway to the back of the store as he sped his pace up. Another round of gunshots went off.

A bullet lodged itself in the center of Beck’s back.

Beck Lockwood died.

---

Six months ago, Freya Lockwood sat on her bed, head in her hands. Freya’s body was shaking uncontrollably, the result of sobbing.

After losing all three of her older brothers, Freya had fallen into a deep depression. A depression that ran farther than anyone knew. Some days were normal, and she could make it through without crying. Today was not one of those days.

Sometimes, Freya would lock herself up in her room and stay there for days on end, crying, without food or water. Her parents did their best to try to help her. Counseling included. But nothing could fix the searing pain that Freya felt whenever she remembered Cole, Troy, or Beck.

On this aforementioned day, after crying for hours and hours, Freya marched out of her room, outside, to her car. She got in and started driving.

Freya drove for forty-five minutes until she reached the Golden Gate Bridge. There were only a few cars driving, so Freya knew no one would mind if she pulled to the side and stopped. And she did just that.

Once the car was stopped, Freya hopped out of the car and shuffled to the side of the bridge. Freya placed her hands on the cold iron and stared into the blue water.

This is it. I hope Mom and Dad know I love them still, Freya thought. She flung one leg up onto the fence, then the other so her feet were dangling above the water. With one last deep breath, she jumped.

She held her breath for too long.

Freya Lockwood drowned.