Twisted Truths: A Short Story

She's gone. She's really gone. Leia Gomez is never coming back and I'm officially in my life's worst possible nightmare. How? Why? She was just here in my room not even a week ago. A week ago we were doing face masks before we packed up her stuff from the sleepover. A week ago we were dancing to Teenage Dream by Katy Perry. But she's gone and I'm never going to get her back.

What sucks even more is people that didn't know her at all pretend to care. They made this pathetic memorial at her locker with pictures and candles. I think it's complete crap. The only time people start to care or make it look like they do is when it's too late. I've experienced all my firsts without her: first car ride, first meal, first sleep, and first shopping spree. These things are things we always used to do together, we'll do them together again soon. But in the meantime, I miss her. The first day back at school was a nightmare. Students got called down to talk to the police one by one and sometimes in groups. I find it funny how everyone else is crying and weeping their eyes out when I'm the one who got left a suicide note without any detail of where she is or where to find her. By the time I got the note, she was long gone both physically in distance and literally as a person. Her parents haven't said anything either.

The police called me down at least three times today. They think I have information that can help them but all I've got are videos of us goofing around and the note.

"Brielle, I need that note. It's evidence." the officer would say.

"Well sorry but you're not getting it. It's the last thing she ever left me and the last thing she ever wrote. Besides, it's not even on me right now." I say back, defensively. I lied, I had it on me but they couldn't have it. They walk away and tell me that this isn't over.

I honestly couldn't care less, I had to stay focused. The school's atmosphere seems different; darker. Everyone seemed to be watching their every move, word, and their backs. As if they think someone murdered her. No one did; she murdered herself and they need to grow up.

Leia was this force that people loved or hated. She was confident and that's what scared people. They feared the confidence or they loved it and strived to be like her. No one ever would have thought that she'd want it all to end. Of course they didn't because she'd always put this smile on her face and kept her head held high. Leia's home life wasn't easy, she always wanted to get away and come over to my house due to her emotionally abusive parents. It wasn't always easy but she made it work. It didn't matter if she was in my room crying while I held her and told her it'll be okay. The next day at school, she was a ray of sunshine with what looked like a so-called "perfect life" to an outsider.

There's this grief support group at school that my mom is forcing me to go to. It's absolutely ridiculous. They expect me and a bunch of other kids including Leia's boyfriend to sit in a room and talk about how they feel. News flash: if you ask teenagers to talk about how they feel, they won't want to. That's the case for most teens but not Brock Miller. Ever since Leia's death he's been going on tangents about how much a bitch she was and how he's so glad she's gone. He wouldn't say those exact words but we all knew that's how he felt. So that's where I am now. Sitting in this library in a circle next to Nolan as we go around in a circle and talk about how we feel. Great. There's only one person before I go and that's Nolan. I don't know what I'm going to say so I just listen to him.

"I guess I feel blindsighted? She never told me she had feelings about, well, you know. And I just wonder what I possibly could have done to make things easier for her." He said

"I don't think there's anything you could have done, Nolan. If she didn't tell you then there's no way you possibly could have known." Mr. McKowski, the guidance counselor, responded.