Sewing Scissors

What Came After

The following events were hard to remember. It was all a fuzzy blur to me, and I believe that it is for the best. Opal was screaming at the top of her lungs, and it took all of my strength to hold her back from running to MJ. It was standing around, playing with his hair in a mocking way, just daring us to walk out there. After Opals screams started to die down, I picked up a phone and started to call the police. Within minutes the police had arrived. When we heard the sirens, It ran away like a coward. It turned its head and looked in to my soul as it ran and dared me to chase after It. I almost did, but Opal had a death grip on my arm.

The next few days were slow, and were sad to say the least. MJ's funeral was sad, and reminded me of my own brothers. I remember bringing a basketball, and placing it in the tomb with him. His uncle was there, and I don't think I had ever seen a taller man cry so hard. Opal was there, and we all paid our respects. When we lowered his tomb in to the ground, it was over. Everyone was supposed to just leave. But I didn't. I stayed until the grass was placed on top, I stayed until the rain started, I stayed until nightfall. I think a part of me is still there right now, refusing to lose the only friend I ever really had.

The next day, I felt like I was on drugs. I was just walking around, a zombie in the real world. I was alive, but I didn't deserve to be. He was dead, and I wasn't, but it wasn't right. He was the funny one, the smart one, the reason I could still show my face at school. I remember back then, when my brother died.

"Hey freak! Your brother must have really not liked you if he killed himself!" the taunts from the crowd grew louder. I was on my knees, crying like the baby I felt like I was. "Maybe you should kill yourself too, weirdo!" Laughter filled my ears, and stayed in my head. When the bell rang, the crowd dissipated. Charles, the biggest kid in my class, kicked the binder out of my hands and laughed as he walked away. Cora, the pretty girl with a cold heart, grinned and spat on my notes. As I tried to pick up my notes off the floor, the only one to help me was him. MJ. He comforted me when I was sad, and he helped me with all the tough times. "You'll get through it man." Now who will help me get through it, when I have lost the world?