A/N Thanks for the reviews. Hope you like the next chapter.

Part Fifteen.

I stepped back from the scene closing my eyes tightly against the sight of Becca sprawled out on the road. People were running forward to try and assist, another car had been involved. A van had gone straight into the back of the car that had knocked Becca down. The driver didn't look in such a good condition. I got the courage to run out and kneel beside Becca's unconscious body.

"Do you know her?" An anxious looker-by asked.

I nodded. "Her name is Rebecca Charlton." I said, quickly. I could hear the distant sounds of ambulance sirens, and I thought back to that lunch time when we first heard the sound.

The paramedics knelt down beside her and I was pushed to the back of the scene, watching helplessly from behind.

They loaded her on to a stretched and lifted her into the flashing vehicle.

"I have to go with her!" I said, running forward. One of the men stepped aside, the other helped me in, offering his hand to lift me up the steps into the ambulance, and there I sat, gripping Becca's hand, until my nails made moons on her skin.

"I'm sorry, Becca. I never meant for this to happen!" I said, softly.

One of the paramedics stared at me, as the doors were closed and the vehicle roared into life.

It seemed to take the ambulance such a long time to reach the hospital. And all the while I had the paramedic firing questions at me. No, I was pretty such she wasn't allergic to anything, she certainly didn't have diabetes and so on. . .

We reached the hospital, everything after that was a distant blur. They took her in to the operating theatre, and I was left in a gloomy waiting room, full of depressed people. And then her parents arrived. That has to be one of the worst moments so far, when her blessed mother began sobbing hysterically.

"What happened?" Her father asked quietly.

"She didn't look where she was going." I sniffed.

He stared at me, his eyes narrowing. "My poor child."

"I'm sorry." I said, extremely sincerely. He nodded, not really knowing the full meaning of my words. If Becca died it was my fault, I would be a killer all over again.

The waiting was the worst part. The smell of the waiting room, the loud clock that was situated directly on my eye line, and the pointless magazines that held nothing but misery. 'A nose job gone wrong', 'they killed my brother for fun' etc.

It was then I remember Eleanor's parents, they must have been sitting in this very same waiting room, hanging on desperately for any news of their daughter. Only they had been greeted with bad news, and I was determined that the nurse should bring us good news. It wasn't Becca's time to die, no indeed it wasn't.

"What happened?" Her father asked, again. Not because he didn't believe me, but my explanation wasn't enough, the grief was topo strong to be accepting of fate.

I closed my eyes and counted to ten, before turning to face him. "She just walked out into the middle of the road. She didn't see the car, and it didn't see her."

"Why would she just walk so carelessly out into the middle of the road, that is just not like her, she was always such a sensible girl." Her mother mused.

I shrugged. "She was messing round." I said, quickly.

At that second the door opened, I jumped up expecting it to be the nurse, instead it was my mother who stood in the frame.

"The school told me you were here." She explained.

"What do you want?" I demanded.

She sighed. "We need to talk."

"Not now." I said, stiffly, looking past her to the busy ward outside.

"Of course, poor Becca. I take it was an accident."

Her words took my breath away. Was she accusing me of deliberately pushing Becca to her death? Well, I'd done it once, why not again?

"What else could it have been?" I said, fiery.

She shook her head with an air of disappointment.

"What are you doing back?"

"I got half way to Francis's and I turned back, Megan." She said, softly.

"Guilty conscience."

"Not half as guilty as yours." Was her remark.

"That's just where you're wrong!"

"Please Megan, we need to talk about this, maturely."

"Excuse me." The doctor stepped past mum and into the room. He knelt down before Mrs Charlton and took hold of her hand, grasping it tightly.

She quivered in fright of his next words.

"I'm really sorry." He said, with a gentle shake of his hand.

She nodded to show her understanding, and tears thundered down her rosy cheeks. Mr Charlton jumped from his chair, and walked over to the window, hitting his head against the glass in a dejected fashion. Mum just stared down at the floor in a remorseful fashion. Whereas I refused to believe it.

"Becca cannot be dead!" I said, fiercely, as though by saying it, it would somehow make it true!

The doctor stood up. "She was near death when she was brought in. She suffered from a massive internal bleed which we could not stop." He stepped over to me. "Are you the girl who was with her?"

I nodded, sullenly, not wanting to look into his failure of a face.

"The police would like a word, but if you're not up to it. . ."

I shook my head, vigorously. "I can't."

He placed his hand on my shoulder. "Whenever you're ready."

"Why do the police want to talk to her?" She asked.

"And you are?"

"Her mother."

"Ah, well Becca was hit by a hit and run driver. They need a description, the best she can give them." He explained.

"Can I see her?" Becca's mum asked suddenly.

"I wouldn't advise it."

"I have to see her, please."

"If it's what you wish, I'll have one of the nurses get her ready."

"Thank you." Her hand reached out and she grasped her husband. They stood together in a heart-warming embrace of heartache, and agony. They had lost one of the most important things in their life, but I felt not a little bit sorry for them. Becca meant more to me, then she ever could have to them. We had been through so much together. . .over ten years of flawless friendship thrown away in a moment of anger, and weakness.

I could not bring myself to cry, my grief was beyond tears. I just flopped back down in the comfy, cushion chairs, and stared out into space, seeing nothing, hearing nobody. It was not meant to be like this.