Your boyfriend died a few weeks ago. Riddled with guilt, you could barely even get yourself out of bed for his funeral. You couldn't bear those faces of pity and judgment. Judgment. So much judgment.

Everyone knows what happened. You had called Tyler to pick you up from god knows where late at night. You're still scared of driving despite having your learner's license for a while now. And being the good boyfriend Tyler is, he dragged himself out of bed and drove over to fetch you.

Except he never arrived. Later that night, you found out that he'd been taken out by a drunk driver and supposedly died on impact.

You knew that a lot blamed you for the death of the promising nineteen-year-old Tyler Tanaka. He was popular and loved by many in the community, as he was always ready to help anyone out.

---

It's been about a week since his funeral and you haven't done much else other than wallow in your own misery and guilt in your bed. What else can you really do? How does one move on from this?

All you wanted was to hear his voice one last time. Hear his soft reassuring words. You needed it one last time.

So you grabbed your phone and dialed his number, not thinking much of it. You just wanted to hear his voice. Even if it was just that stupid voicemail he made.

Ring... ring... ring...

"Hello?" A soft, hoarse voice picks up the phone, but you immediately recognize it.