Chapter 2: They Blame The Living
The final school bell rang. Students are forcing themselves out of class, rushing to their friends. I walk out of the school building with my earbuds in, holding back tears. I make my way through the school parking lot. That is when I lock eyes with Kian Patel - Great. Just the best time to see his perfect face. I couldn't face him, at least not right now.
I rush past him, hoping he forgot what Sadie told him prior. Thankfully, he doesn't stop me. Although a part of me wished he did. The car door slammed behind me, my fingers went straight to her name in my contacts. No answer. Pressed her contact again. Her voicemail. My eyes started tearing up. Thoughts rummaged through my brain, trying to figure out what happened to Sadie.
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The sun had set already while I was in my bed, alone with my thoughts. I wanted to call Mrs.Quinn to make sure Sadie was okay, but I didn't want to push it out of her to tell me. Oh Gosh. I hope she is ok. My mom entered the room with her mouth shut. Her body was tense, as if what she was gonna say was the worst.
I guessed right. It felt like my lungs collapsed, and if my body just gave out on me. "How ??" I said with so little effort. " She jumped, and the janitor found her on the floor of the school yard. Not breathing." My mom said while her voice was breaking up.
I broke out in tears, while my mom hugged me. I wanted to run away and never come back again. There is no way. She would never jump off the roof of our school. My mom rubbed my hair, assuring me that everything would be okay.
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I woke up to the bright sunlight facing my bed. Within seconds of waking up, everything that happened last night came back to my mind. The knocking on my door made me feel tense. It was my mom. "Are you getting ready for school ?" She asked, and I nodded my head yes, holding back tears that were begging to come out. She slightly tilted her head, searching my facial expressions. Trying to figure out what I was feeling at this moment.
To be honest, I did not feel anything. I just felt numb. My hairbrush tugged against my wavy curls. I quickly grabbed it into a messy ponytail and grabbed my bookbag. I walked past my mom, hoping she wouldn't say anything.
"It's on Sunday…" she muttered, sighing as if she meant to say it for a while. My back quickly turned, facing her with confusion. "What's on Sunday ?".. There was this quiet tension between us. I dreaded every time this happened because I knew right after, there would be a sentence that would ruin me. "The f-funeral.." she breathed. It hurt hearing that come out of her mouth. I rushed out of the house and quickly shut the door behind me.
I made it to school on time. I don't agree that coming to school was the best option, but I just didn't want to be alone in my thoughts at home. "What the HELL ?!" I scream in the car. I finally let out everything I was feeling. I punched the wheel multiple times that my hands started getting irritated. I hate to admit it, but my ugly cry came out.
Riiingggg !! "Crap! I'm going to be late !" I rubbed my hand against my eyes and speed walked to my first class.
I entered class on time. Everyone was staring at me. I saw my classmates whispering things to each other. I turned and walked to my seat, ignoring their remarks. 20 minutes later, someone tapped me on the shoulder. Lory Trucy. The one girl I didn't want to see.
"I don't know what you are feeling, but I just want you to know that people think you did it." She said with a subtle grin on her face. What. The. Hell. I look around the classroom, making eye contact with everyone. Now, then, I realized the dirty looks everyone was giving me. It wasn't like they felt sorry for me; they thought I did it.
The 1st period ended. Usually, I am the one who leaves the classroom last, but this time, I was out the door before anyone could close their textbooks. When I entered the restroom, the first stall was the one I ran into.
I called Mrs. Quinn. "Hello.." A familiar voice on the other end of the phone, but this time it was like she had been crying and never stopped. "Mrs. Quinn, How-" I stopped before asking a question I knew no one could answer after losing someone they loved so much. I paused for a second, not knowing what to say to her. It is not like I can just ask how she is doing because she is not okay.
After 30 seconds of silence on the phone, I built up the courage to speak again. "Can I come to your house? I just need to speak to someone… ?". She agreed over the phone, and a sigh of relief just took over my body.
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So here it is.
Sadie's house.
It felt weird coming to her house and not hanging out with her. Mrs.Quinn opened the door wide with a forced smile on her face. Both Mr and Mrs.Quinn always welcomed me and made me feel comfortable. They felt like another family. She felt like a sister to me. She was a sister to me.
We sat down at the kitchen table in silence. Though it was silent, we knew exactly what the other person was feeling. "Why so soon? 3 days..." I asked, unsure of the response that was to come. Mrs. Quinn sighed, "Robert and I feel like the longer we wait to bury her, the longer it will take to let go of her." She wasn't wrong. When Sadie's rabbit died, she buried it within a week because she didn't want to get stuck in grief. That's how her family is. Some would disagree, but in their mind, it made perfect sense.
Mrs. Quinn's lips trembled as she asked, "Would you like to give a speech ?" That caught me off guard.
I pressed my lips together, unsure how to answer. I nodded my head, and she let out a sigh of relief. "After the funeral, I was wondering if you wanted to come by to look at her stuff; she would have wanted you to have it." It feels wrong taking her stuff, though I know she would have wanted me to.
"Do you believe it was suicide ?" I stammered. I knew it was wrong to ask, but I still did. Mrs.Quinn got up quickly and walked to the kitchen counter. "Y-yes.." she stuttered. "It's hard to believe that she did, but it is not like she hasn't tried before," she said with tears in her eyes. "I just wish she had asked for help. Or I wish I could have noticed-" she said, the most she could before breaking down into tears.
I couldn't do anything else but just hug her, that's what went on for the next 3 hours. Just comforting each other. We both needed it as much as the other.
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The weekend flew by quickly, and now it was already Sunday. The day I dreaded the most.
Here I was, looking at myself in the mirror. I took a deep breath and started getting ready. I wore a black pencil skirt with a long gray long-sleeved shirt. Before I left Sadie's house, Mrs. Quinn gave me the ring Sadie was wearing that day. I put that on my index finger along with another ring I won at a fair.
Just as I was about to leave my room to meet my mom in the living room. I had to puke. I don't even remember the count anymore. Afterwards, I met eyes with my mom in the living room and she gave me a subtle smile. She looked at me with worry and said with comfort, "It's gonna be okay." I looked at the floor as she said that. How would I be okay?
When we arrived at the memorial, I was immediately flashed with pictures of her. Pictures that I know she probably would've chose out herself. Her voluminous red curls. Freckles covered her whole face. She had a smile on her face. I will never forget it. The memorial started right after we took our seats.
Her cousin offered me a whole box of tissues, I grabbed it with no thought. The whole time, I just felt like my life was gonna end. I never thought I was gonna be in this situation. "I would like to ask Nina, Nina Morales, her best friend, to the stage." Mrs.Quinn said, wiping her nose with a tissue.
I walked up slowly to the stage. I let out a breath, shaky and full of things unsaid. As I struggled to say my speech I had prepared, I looked up and saw Kian Patel, I don't know what he's doing here. We locked eyes, and he gave almost a reassuring smile.
I ended my speech with "It hurts to let you go, but I'm so lucky I got to hold on for as long as I did." I hugged myself, hoping I would feel better. I regret everything I said to her that day and wish it had never happened. That's when guilt hit me.
The time came when they finally had to set her down. Under the ground. The whole situation made me feel uneasy. My mom held onto me tight, saying all sorts of things.
They played her favorite song. "Moon Song" by Phoebe Bridgers. The whole time, I just bawled my eyes out. It was needed and long overdue. My mom let go of me to go help Mrs. Quinn, who had fallen to the ground in devastation.
Not too long after, I felt a tap on my shoulder. Kian Patel. He swallowed hard before speaking. "I'm so sorry, Nina, I can't even imagine what you are going through". He looked at me, his eyes filled with sorrow. I just hugged him. He hugged me back with no questions asked.
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Like promised, I went to Sadie's house to grab some of her things the next day. I sat on her bed, looking around. This room no longer felt like home, it felt so empty. I rummaged through her things, trying to think of things to grab. I picked up some of her jewelry and clothes that she used to always force on me.
A knock on the door filled the silence that crowded the room. Mrs. Quinn's voice broke halfway through. "Nina. Can you promise me something ?" I stared at her with confusion. "Of course," I answered with no hesitation. "Just promise me you won't leave," she held her breath as if bracing for a response. I rushed over to her, arms wide open for a hug. We stayed in silence for a good minute.. I promised myself and her that I won't leave.
Sadie loved books. She owned so many books that she could open a store. Journaling was her thing also. I never looked at them because it felt like an invasion of privacy. I knew which one was her current book she was writing in. It had a royal purple cover with polka dots on the side. I flipped through the pages searching for an answer of some sort. I stopped at this page labeled as 'Only a kid'.
I read through the page, my stomach tightened, surprised at the things she wrote about. She talked about her life growing up and all the traumatic things she experienced. My heart pounded every time my name was brought up.
When Sadie was 12, she experienced certain things that can be triggering to explain. After that certain incident, she attempted. Her therapist recommended that she get into journaling. I thought she was getting better. I felt guilty for not noticing sooner. If I had noticed, maybe I could have helped her. Tears started falling from my eyes onto the page. Maybe it is my fault.
When the page was about to end, she ended it by saying, 'Sometimes the dangerous lies are the ones we tell ourselves.' Hmm. Poetic. I didn't know she had it in her.
I shut her journal and grabbed the box filled with her things, and shut the door behind me.