Project Pen (first draft)

Chapter Five (tw: heavy mentions of suicide)

I woke up from my deep sleep to the sounds of sobbing, jolting up, I found the source. It was Tiffany. She must've just found out. "Tiffany?" I got out of my bed, and sat on hers, putting my arm around her softly, "What happened?"

It took her a few minutes to calm her tears enough to answer me "Daniel..." she choked out in between sobs, "he's..." she paused, trying to find the words, but words failed. "He's dead, Edith. He's gone." I didn't even know how to respond or what to say, so I stayed quiet. After some time, I managed to mutter "what happened?"

Tiffany had told me everything, and I felt horrible. She explained how she'd taken longer than he expected because she wanted to surprise him with their favorite cookies, and the bakery was a while away. When she got back, she found him sitting in the armchair, stooped over, exactly how I left him... She found the note I left in his hand.

Dear Tiffany,

I'm sorry I had to do this, I'm sorry you'll be the one to find me. I guess this is where I'm supposed to explain why I did what I did. Say that I cried every day or something like that, but that's not the truth. Honestly, I don't feel anything most days. The stress has grown like a black hole, hiding any semblance of joy. I've tried so hard to push through it, to be happy for you, but I'm exhausted. I'm not as strong as you think I am. Basketball, my brother's relapse, it's all too much for me. I'm so tired of hoping for the light at the end of the tunnel. I'm starting to think you only get to the end of the tunnel when you get to the end of life. It's not like I've had a particularly rough life, I mean, everyone's family is messed up, everyone goes through financial stress in college. I'm not strong enough for you. I'm not strong enough for life.

For what it's worth, I do love you. I love you in a way that's hard to put into words. You've been the only source of energy in my life, the thing that's been keeping me going. You were the soundtrack to my movie, the annotations to my book, and the wind in my sail. I can never thank you enough for how you've loved me, and allowed me to love. Goodbye.

My heart clinched as she recounted the contents of the letter. Though I tried to write through Daniel's point of view, something about it felt so raw. It was personal. I didn't realize until my experience with Daniel, I was the same as him, he was just better at hiding it. After his death, it was like I was able to look into his soul, and as I looked back on our previous experiences, I recognized the stain emptiness on him.

And I understood why he needed Tiffany so much, it's the reason why I needed her too. She's the cure. Whatever that cursed Daniel and I goes away when Tiffany's there. When she smiles at you, it's like the grace of god. When she says your name it's like the melodic song of birds perched on a princess's finger in a fairytale. When you love Tiffany the way we loved Tiffany, everything is right. When you know the love of Tiffany, you would do anything to keep it. You would give anything to keep that love.

And so, I tried my absolute best to make her feel better. Though she had stopped crying, at least she hasn't cried in my presence, she wasn't the same. Her smile still gave me life, but the passion in her smile was missing. She didn't believe it anymore. The curse that affected me and Daniel, it was spreading. It was infecting her. I can't let that happen.

I tried everything I could think of to cheer her up, I organized movie nights, and took her to a performance of her favorite Shakespeare, but her smile didn't reach her eyes. It was fake. I surprised her with buckets of yarn, praying the bright artificial colors she once found solace in would comfort her once again. Maybe her crochet would provide an outlet for emotional discussion, but I don't think she ever even touched it. I allowed her to teach me a recipe, and began baking with her quite frequently, but it hardly made a dent. My worst fear was coming to fruition. My own self hatred and destruction is poisoning the ones I love.

Tiffany shook her head as she sifted the flour, "I don't know Edie... I feel like these are connected. I mean, two deaths in two weeks... Both from the same department..." Tiffany furrowed her brow as she mixed the ingredients.

I could always tell when Tiffany was stressed because our dorm always smelled of sweets. Whether it was an exam coming up or a difficult conversation she had to prepare for, she baked her feelings away, getting lost in the sugar and flour. I never minded it. It kept her happy and it kept me full, there are worse ways to take out your stress...

"Listen, Tiff, Professor Martin and Kevin Walsh were the embodiment of the cretinous, asinine, scum underbelly of humanity. There is no doubt in my mind that Martin was undone by his own debauchery and Kevin Walsh did something to deserve his fate. It's harsh, but it's true." This is my way of trying to comfort her, but I can tell it's not working. Upon further inspection of her facial expression, I could tell that this wasn't about Professor Martin or Kevin Walsh. Tiffany knows something about Daniel.

I tried to gauge the situation without inciting suspicion. "This is about Daniel, isn't it?" I closed my laptop as I spoke, this clearly needed my full attention, and I had been doing good on writing recently anyway.

"Daniel wouldn't do that, Edith, you know he wouldn't... He would've talked to me. I would've known if something was wrong." At this point, she had also abandoned what she was doing and the whisk lay forgotten on the counter near her.

"Tiff," I interjected, "It's normal for people in grief to be in denial." With any hope, I'd convince her that's all it is, but she seemed to already know where I was going with it. Shaking her head, she continued, talking louder to get her point across, but not necessarily arguing.

"No, Edith, I know him. I keep scanning our past conversations for any clue, anything. He didn't say anything to me. Why would he have left without saying goodbye?" She lamented, pressing into the counter.

"Sometimes, men are just jerks. They're inconsiderate Tiff, it's how they were wired. If he was going through something stressful, he might've thought it was better to just leave it all behind..." It felt wrong as it was coming out of my mouth, and I knew I messed up. Tiffany's movement halted immediately, and she looked at me, her eyes glossy with pain.

"Screw you," she said it quietly, but with power. My breath got caught in my throat as she bore into my soul with her eyes. Her head started to shake. "You're glad he's gone, aren't you? You were jealous of him. You hated him because I couldn't spend all my time with you anymore, because you have this insane fear that nobody likes you, unless they spend every moment of every day with you!"

"Tiff-" I tried, but she cut me off. Her eyes zeroed in on me as she went in for the kill, my image of her got blurry as tears filled my eyes.

"It is not my fault your parents hate you. I can't be your mother and you cannot be the only person in my life! You're suffocating me Edith, and you don't even care."

She's right... I was burdening her. I ruined her, infected her with my curse because I'm never satisfied. All at once I was faced with the impossible realization that I destroy what I love. "You're impossible Edith! You're impossible, and you're insensitive. You're acting like you're glad they all died. Who does that?" She was practically yelling now, and I could feel myself shrinking, my eyes glued to the floor next to her. "You know what?" She sighed, turning away from me, grabbing her jacket, "I can't be here right now. I'm leaving."