fractures

marlene

Layne

No one knows what happened. That day Marlene died, no one was there. Except for Gwyneth and me.

It's gladdening that no one thinks that I killed her. Because who wants to be accused of murdering their best friend? There had been investigation and it was concluded that Marlene had fallen off the cliff by accident. But that's the part that's not right.

Marlene should have known how to keep away from the edge. She was always the responsible one. If either one of us were to fall off the cliff, it should've been me. I was the one who was always getting dragged out of dangerous stunts by Marlene.

I was the one who walked across the log with a thirty metre drop below on a dare. I was the one who climbed up trees in the neighbourhood to pluck its fruits. But not Marlene, never Marlene. She was too careful to ever do such things.

Except for falling off a cliff, perhaps.

After her death, my classmates start to avoid me. They make brief eye contact every now and then, eyes flooding with sympathy, before looking away. Every single time something happens which is my fault, they always say "Go easy on Layne, her best friend died recently."

Whenever my classmates speak to me, it's always in a careful, picky manner. There is always an air of awkwardness. Because they just can't get used to speaking comfortably to me without Marlene right beside me. It's always been 'Marlene and Layne' or 'Layne and Marlene'. It's never been just Layne.

As if losing my best friend isn't bad enough. Sympathy is the last thing I needed. So I choose not to speak. I choose to sit in the corner of class and isolate myself, to lose myself in words and forget about reality. I choose to be alone all the time and never go for parties or hang out or do anything that normal teenagers will do. I choose to be like a girl called Gwyneth.

Gwyneth is this petite little girl with straight black hair and a pair of chocolate brown eyes who do the talking for her instead of her mouth. Gwyneth never speaks. Not a single world. Not since the day Marlene died.

She keeps away from people and people keep away from her. So that's exactly what I decide to do. Keep away from people. Then they will start to forget that they've labelled me as 'The girl whose best friend died recently'.

It's tough when no one's giving me a break from all the sympathising. But I bear with it because there is something much more important that I need to do.

I need to find out the truth behind Marlene's death.