Flight Through Darkness

It's My Fault

The phone rings.

"Hello?"

"Lilly, it's me. Tifa."

I have no words to say. My second oldest friend sounds so...broken. Not like the daring, confident girl I've always known. I don't have a valid reason why I wasn't there at Aerith's funeral. Tifa isn't likely to forgive me for that. I guess that's why she's calling.

Tifa ploughs on, despite the frequent breaks in her voice I can hear, even over the phone.

"I don't know why you weren't there earlier. But we're going to A-Aerith's house now. If you want to make it up to her, be there. Otherwise, say goodbye to both of us."

Click.

I remain motionless for a few seconds, then sigh. I don't have much of a choice, do I? With my shaking hands, I slip one arm into that dark blue dress I bought with them, then the other. Leaving my hair down and only pausing to pick up my phone and the house keys, I exit the house and walk down the street to her house, feet clad in only a pair of flip flops.

The door is half-open when I reach it, but still I hesitate. Will they understand? Or will they hate me for what I've done? Murderers don't exactly go to the funerals of their victims. But before I can do anything else, the door is pulled fully open and I come face to face with a red-eyed Tifa, who, despite the obvious tear tracks on her face, manages to look stern and haughty. But seconds later the cold demeanor crumbles and I'm left with a grieving friend who doesn't know what to do.

Awkwardly, I shuffle forwards and pull Tifa into a bone-crushing hug. "I'm sorry... I'm so sorry," I repeat, the only thing I ever seem to be able to say nowadays. She sniffs, but hugs me back before pulling away and leading me into the house we both know as well as our own.

Aerith's house is the same as when we stayed over the last time, when we blackmailed Hojo with that video of him dancing to Barbie Girl. Fond memories rush through my mind, playing together as kids, pretending to save each other from fire-breathing dragons, making cards for our parents with Aerith's set of crayons and glitter glue. I remember it all.

I wind my way around Ash, that kitten she picked up from the streets and enter the kitchen, where Aerith's parents are sitting at the table, surrounded by my friends. Her father's head is flat on the table, while her mother is consoling Zack while trying to blink back her own tears.

At the sound of the door, everyone looks up, and I freeze, caught like a deer in headlights. I don't know what to say. I don't know what to do.

One by one, my dear friends come up and embrace me tightly, Zack and Genesis holding on longer than the rest and, to my relief, asking no questions about my absence at the funeral. I fight the urge to cringe away, feeling tainted by what I did. But they don't see it. All I see in their eyes is sympathy for a broken friend, not disgust, contempt for the one who helped snuff her life out. How many times will I say it? And how many times will they tell me, "It's not your fault. You weren't thinking clearly. You are not to blame" ? Is it so selfish that I don't feel like living when my best friend is dead, because of me? It's one thing to lose a friend to Death, another to shove her into it yourself.

"Lilly, stop it. I know what you're thinking. Stop it." Zack. I don't deserve these words, especially from him, whose beloved I-

"He's right. Quit blaming yourself. It was an accident. You didn't plan to k-k-kill her, did you?" Genesis adds, folding his arms and looking straight at me. Cloud, Angeal and Tifa chime in, voicing their support for someone who is guilty, as if hoping that by denying it, it didn't happen. But I know better.

You are a murderer. Why didn't you check behind you? She would be here if you hadn't shoved her. Right? How can you sleep at night now, knowing her blood is on your hands? You let them go into the forest despite knowing it was dangerous. That dream was a warning, don't you see?

I clutch my head, trying to block out the voices in my head. Why won't they go away? I hear the others coming forward anxiously, and I shrink back from them, shaking my head, before turning around and running for the bathroom.