Suicide Notes

Chapter One

Chapter One

Anna-

Different floral aromas mixed together, filling the room in the tiny, nondenominational church with their scents. A minister whom I'd never met, and was certain Jessi didn't know, was telling the congregation about the meaning of life and how much she would be missed. Honestly, listening to him was making me slightly angry. What right did a stranger have to tell us about her?

Sitting in fold out chairs with the rest of Caleb's roommates and band members, I glanced to the row ahead, where Caleb had his arm draped around his stepmom. Danica had taken "funeral black" dramatically over the top with her outfit—a suit that was slightly too low cut in front to be appropriate, as well as too short, with spiked black heels. Underneath a black flowered hat, complete with a short veil that draped over half her face, her blonde hair and pale skin were the only color that broke up the morbid ensemble. I found it interesting that even though her husband, Hank, was sitting stoically next to her, it was Caleb she kept leaning toward and weeping against.

Except for their tall height, Caleb was nothing like his dad. I couldn't really compare their hair color, since Caleb had been dying his for years. When he was younger, his natural color was medium brown, if I remembered correctly. Now, it was black, except for a small patch of blonde that had been bleached into the ends of his long bangs. Where his dad kept his hair buzzed short, Caleb wore his longer, shaggier around his ears, and longer on his neck. It was all part of his "rocker persona" as the lead guitarist in our band, Fringe. Caleb was friendly, warm and outgoing. Hank McCord was not—having even served jail time in the past for spousal abuse. I never could figure out why Danica stayed with him. When Hank was home, Jessi had spent as much time away from the house with Caleb, or me, as possible. Neither she nor Caleb got along with their dad.

As if he could feel me staring at him, Caleb glanced over his shoulder to where I was sitting, shooting a half smile in my direction before reaching back to pat my knee. "Doing okay?" he mouthed and I nodded briefly, staring sympathetically into his bright blue eyes before he turned around.

Caleb was classically handsome. Drop dead gorgeous hot might be better terminology, actually. Even Jessi used to bemoan the fact he was her stepbrother—not that he would've paid attention to either of us. He was over three years older than me and almost four years older than Jessi. He was a sophomore in college and twenty-one years old. We were high school seniors and way beneath his notice—at least until the day his band lost their lead singer and Jessi convinced him to let me audition.

The guys weren't too keen on having a girl in their band, especially one so young; but I had the pipes for it and it turned out to be an amazing fit for all of us. I went from being an only child, who wished for a brother, to having four very overprotective older adopted brothers. Caleb, the twins, Rick and Riley Forrester, and Justin Stedman, who insisted we call him Stix because he thought it sounded like a cool drummer name. Though I loved them all desperately, I wasn't sure I liked them always looking over my shoulder, threatening every guy who tried to date Jessi or me. They were constantly running off potential boyfriends.

Now, what would it be like with her gone?

"Anna, do you ever think about what it would be like to die?" Our conversation from a week ago suddenly popped into my head.

Puzzled, I glanced at her. Under normal circumstances, I'd have thought she was joking; but she seemed so serious.

"Can't say that I have, honestly. Why?"

Jessi shrugged, pulling the light jacket she was wearing tighter around her. "No reason, really. I just wonder if it hurts. " She flicked her long blonde hair behind her shoulder, briefly casting a sidelong look at me.