What is eternal happiness? Is it having nothing to worry about for the rest of your days, being with the people you cherish most in the world while feeling safe, secure and loved? Amy was worrying, she cast herself away from everyone she knew and loved, including Mark and her father, she felt on edge, insecure of her thoughts and feelings and felt more alone than ever as she sat in silence on the end of her bed in her attic bedroom, encased by four white walls that no longer had posters, gig tickets or magazine clippings covering them; just Blue Tac marks that dotted the outlines of the posters which were now folded or rolled up in a large box under Amy’s bed. She stared at the bare wall in front of her, at the faded lines that the posters had made over the years of hanging there silently, Amy had taken them down the night Steven was taken to hospital, she had a fit of fury where she slammed her bedroom door, pulled all of her things down off the wall, ripped up her artwork she’d spent hours on over the past few years, chucked her bed sheets and pillows on the floor and screamed at the top her lungs through tears of anger, sadness, lament and guilt. Her wounds had opened again, not on her wrists however; even in death she knew her love would be disappointed in her if she opened her wounds again so she refrained from cutting her wrists and opened more new ones on her legs obviously that wasn’t any better so she felt guilty, and she felt remorse for doing what she did after trying so hard to forget and move on. But all of that was weeks ago now. Amy had had 3 weeks to reflect, to vent her emotions and to realise she’d fallen back into her depression, but not once in those three weeks had she been to the hospital to see someone who was fighting for their life every second
“Steven...” Amy whispered to herself clenching her jaw and tightly shutting her eyes to block out the thoughts and memories of the man that had caused her so much love and happiness, until that dark, stormy day where he began to cause so much pain and anger in Amy’s mind and heart it was physically impossible for her to be happy again, this was what Amy thought; she had given up on trying to be happy, she felt the more you cared the more you had to lose, and if she loved and cared for Steven and if she lost him it would be the end of her. She had stopped caring for music too, she lost interest in it as the memories of Steven and his loving songs always came flooding back to her when she played the piano or guitar. She had not visited her imaginary field with the 24 year old Steven in for months even before the stabbing. Amy slept but didn’t dream anything; her nights were dark, cold and silent, her days made her feel alienated, isolated and tearful and she spent every day in bed blocking out the world, she went to school every other day, broke down in tears and was home by third lesson.
Today was no different. It was a Saturday morning; Amy lay in her bed and pulled her duvet up to her chin, closed her eyes and tried to sleep. She drifted in and out of consciousness for a few hours until she heard footsteps outside her bedroom, they shuffled around for a minute before a light knock met Amy’s ears. She said nothing. The door opened and the visitor greeted Amy in a deep, quiet voice, he sat down on the edge of the bed and Amy opened her eyes, sat up slowly and saw Mark looking at his hands in his lap. Amy watched him for a moment, she was surprised that Mark was in her room, on her bed and wanting to talk to her; they hadn’t spoken since the incident when Amy was sent home and Mark came out of the Hall to see her kicking and screaming in Mr. Meadows’s arms as he put her in his car and drove her home. She felt awkward with Mark around again, like the first time they’d met, but it had been almost six months since they’d first met and they had become so close. Six months of becoming best friends, and then it took only one day to cause them so much agony and sadness that created an awkward atmosphere between best friends, put a band’s album on hold, put Amy’s lover in hospital, one bassist in a juvenile centre and four mother’s and father’s minds on edge and worrying that their children will kick off and cause havoc again...
“Mark?” Amy whispered through the dim light, through the silence. Mark didn’t reply, he just looked at Amy, crossed legged on the bed under her duvet, and moved up towards her, put two long arms around her and cradled her for a moment. Amy wasn’t shocked nor did she feel awkward anymore, in fact this broke the ice a little, she put her arms around Mark and held on tightly; she shouldn’t be casting him away, he was the closest thing to a friend right now.
