The Girl Next Door Her name was Katie. It still is; she’s still alive. She just no longer lives next door. Katie, now 25, has 5 years on me. I remember her as average height, thin, with long brown hair, dark brown eyes and a larger than average nose. While I grew up, we played together all the time. My family moved in to my house when I turned precisely 3 and a half; my brother only a few days old. Katie already lived next-door. Sometimes she complained about the old family moving out because her best friend Sarah lived there before us. She played soccer. She held on to her popularity through elementary and middle school. She seemed the epitome of cool to me. But sometimes she acted very unkindly towards me. Now that I think about it, I don’t know why Katie spent so much time with my brother and me back then. She spent time with plenty of other older kids in the neighborhood, but I guess the fact that we lived next door made us convenient. Plus, my parents made sure that we always own a swimming pool, even if only one of those cheap inflatable pools that always pop by
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Around 10 or 11 p.m., an ambulance showed up in front of her house and wheeled her out on a gurney. As the story unfolded, she recently became a troublemaker as of late. At fifteen, she received the diagnosis of water on the brain (the laymen’s term for a build-up of fluids in the brain due to some blockage). She got caught smoking weed in the wooded area behind my house the week before. On this particular evening, she planned to go out to a party with one of her friends. But she never made it to the party. She and her friend convinced two older guys to buy them some vodka and went back to their apartment to drink it. According to her friend, Katie drank almost half the bottle on her own. She got home okay, but passed out and stopped breathing. Her mom, a nurse, stayed levelheaded enough to call 911 and perform CPR until they
Around 10 or 11 p.m., an ambulance showed up in front of her house and wheeled her out on a gurney. As the story unfolded, she recently became a troublemaker as of late. At fifteen, she received the diagnosis of water on the brain (the laymen’s term for a build-up of fluids in the brain due to some blockage). She got caught smoking weed in the wooded area behind my house the week before. On this particular evening, she planned to go out to a party with one of her friends. But she never made it to the party. She and her friend convinced two older guys to buy them some vodka and went back to their apartment to drink it. According to her friend, Katie drank almost half the bottle on her own. She got home okay, but passed out and stopped breathing. Her mom, a nurse, stayed levelheaded enough to call 911 and perform CPR until they