Memories

sad strangeness

Let me just tell you this now. Walking down a hallway full of tweens with four armed men surrounding you is not fun. It's the opposite of fun. It's terrible. Everyone was staring at me. Everyone was thinking, ah it's that girl that murdered her best friend. Well, everyone that thought that is wrong!

"This is your classroom, we'll be waiting outside. Go in."

"Okay."

As I walked into my homeroom, everyone turned their heads to look at me. Many people started whispering with their friends or neighbors. I put my head down low.

I was glad that I'd chosen to wear a dark outfit that didn't attract any more attention than the fact I was me. Is this what it's like to be famous, because if it is, I never want that.

"Alright class, just because something happened yesterday during class doesn't mean that we won't have a good day today. We'll get through this, as a class. So for the time being nobody points fingers at your classmate, treat everyone equally. We don't know what happened. Nobody does."

I do. But I can't tell anyone. Well, I could. But. Let me ask you a question. Would you rather be murdered by the guy who killed your best friend, or take the blame for the same murder?

Yeah, I know. It's a hard question. But at that time I was willing to stay alive and have whatever punishment I deserved for doing nothing.

The classes went by quickly that day. I just sat in the back and answered questions I knew the answer to. Otherwise, I just sat there and was quiet.

Soon it was lunch. And since it was lunch, for some reason the policemen get a break from watching my every move. So I finally get some freedom to have fewer stares.

I went to the table me and Miles used to share with a few other kids that just needed somewhere to sit. But, today since everyone's afraid of me, I got the table to myself.

I was eating my sad peanut butter sandwich, I don't like jelly or jam, when someone came up to my table.

It was an averaged height girl. She had long blonde hair, which was pulled into a bun on the top of her head. Her giant blue glasses looked like they were about to fall off her face. Ripped jeans covered her legs and she wore a denim jacket over a plain black shirt. There was a neck-tie on as well, which completed her kind of random look.

"Hi, Naia. You really came over here?"

"Yeah, I told you I would. And this seems like the only time that you're not being watched."

"Well, I don't know. I might still be. These people seem like they really want to make sure I don't pull out a knife and stab anyone around me. Not that I would."

"I know. I'm happy you're staying strong through all of this. But then again, you never get that upset."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, just when your dad got arrested you were fine with it, and then when your mom died you didn't seem that upset. It's not a bad thing. You're just strong."

"I guess. But I really need to tell you something. If you promise not to tell anyone else."

"Well, I don't know. Is it bad? And why didn't you tell anyone else?"

"I just couldn't. But I trust you not to tell anyone else. If someone finds out I told you, they'll kill me."

"Then, maybe you shouldn't tell me."

"Good idea."

"Okay. But you want me to just talk with you about other things?"

"Sure."

"But not here. Everyone is staring at us. Like everyone."

"You're right."

"Is that a PB&J with only the peanut butter?"

"What? Oh, yeah. Not a big fan of the jelly part."

"Wow. I would like to have no peanut butter."

"Funny."

I was so glad to have a friend that actually, well was alive, and that would seemingly believe me if I were to tell her what I didn't feel comfortable telling. Wow, that's a mouthful.