Answer the phone, answer the phone, NO damnit not voicemail answer your fucking phone Noelle! You are NOT dead, you are NOT dead, please answer, please answer…NO NO NO NO! That is all I could say as I paced my bedroom clutching my phone. NO. NO. NO.
That day, the phone became my worst nightmare. So many phone calls. First to the police, because I was hoping that what I was hearing was wrong. There had to be some mistake. “I’m sorry, we don’t have a positive identification of the fatality victim, please give me your address and we will send an officer to your house.” The phone calls to my family, my friends, and the hardest of all to Jack and Lilli’s dad. “There has been an accident and Noelle…Noelle is gone. Please bring Jack and Lilli home. And take their phones, I don’t want them to see this on FaceBook.” People calling, calls to be made, it was all a blur. People kept saying, maybe it wasn’t her, we don’t know for sure. But I knew. As I was giving the officer a photo of Noelle and the name of our dentist for her dental records I knew, even though I kept telling myself, “NO”.
Two police officers and a houseful of my friends and family were there when the phone call came in from the medical examiner’s office with positive identification. The officer hung up his phone to give me the news. “NO, NO, NO, NO!” And still today, when I think about Noelle being dead, the first thought that comes to my mind is NO.
How can this be true? If by saying it enough, can I make it not true? NO, she is not dead. NO, I can’t accept this. NO. Just NO. Sadly, the answer is still a resounding “NO”.
I hate my phone. I hate that I will never again see her number on my caller id, I hate that I will never get another text message from her. I hate that I had to call Sprint and say, “June 5th. June 5th was when my daughter was killed.”