By my third day in the hospital, I realized Owen didn’t visit. I couldn’t understand（21）

By my third day in the hospital, I realized Owen didn’t visit. I couldn’t understand（21）     my best friend wouldn’t e to see me. Struggling against the pain, I called his house. His Mom（22）    , and when I asked for Owen, she got quiet. “He’s not here right now,” she said. I thought it was（23）     that she didn’t tell me where he was or offer to have him call me. But I was so weak, I just let it（24）    .I fount out later that Owen’s mom telephoned my parents right（25）    we rang off. My phone call really made her anxious, and she insisted they talked to me. Later that night, my mom （26）     . Did I remember drinking? Did I remember being in a car? I had no idea what she was talking about, so she finally told me the news: I’d hit a tree. Owen, in the passenger seat, was thrown from the（27）    and killed instantly. The only reason I’d lived was because of my（28）     .
My first（29）    was of shock. I’d been drink-driving? Hit a tree? Killed Owen? I felt like the worst person in the world. Even after I was able to go home several weeks later, I didn’t want to eat, I didn’t want to talk. I just（30）    at the wall in my bedroom and cried. The only person I wanted to see was Owen. I didn’t feel like hanging out with any of my old friends.C