The Secret Of Delphinia Adams

Preface

Charlie Blakely was a fat kid.

He roamed the halls of Preamble High school, thumbs stained a pungent orange from his usual escapades with his endless bags of Cheetos he stashed in his schoolbag. I'd watch him in the middle of History class, shovelling wads into his gaping mouth while the teacher had his back turned. A truly disgusting sight from the guy next to me, followed by the hushed sound of snickering and crude remarks around the two of us.

Not that he'd always been this gross blob of neon orange fingers and fat rolls. He had a huge sense of humor actually. I remember being at his house, sides cramped with laughter as he practiced his comedic routines. I'd laughed even harder when he debuted them at the coffee shop down the block nearly every Wednesday. Known around town as Kid's Night.

Man, he was a funny dude, but then he got hit hard with puberty. Pimples sprung up over his oily face is constant urgency. Harsh body odor plagued him and everyone near him, leaving them to nothing but to gagging an excuse to leave. Including me.

I never felt bad for it. He had several friends whom he chuckled with daily at the far corner of the classroom. What's one friend to lose?

Then January hit. I was called out to the counselor's offices. Nothing to worry about, or at least I thought, why not have some fun first?
My hand grasped the one attached to our teacher, Mr. Trunkle and waved it awkwardly around.

"Go the the counselor's, Thomas," he spat through crooked teeth.

I snickered, leaving the classroom in a commotion of mixed gazes ranging between hatred to astonishment.

Five minutes later I stood outside the heavy doors of the counselor department, peering in through the small window. Mr. and Mrs. Blakely wrenched each other in a tight hug, tears streaming down their heaving faces. Across from them was our principal, talking with two police officers.... And my parents.

This can't be good.

I stood frozen in front of the door way, weighing the outcome of leaving school. Just walking the eight blocks home. Of course, this time I couldn't come up with a good excuse, both my parents stood inside, glancing nervously at everyone in the room.

Had Charlie ratted me out for putting the the class spider on his book bag. Well, I didn't do it, Kasey Whitman did. I just told him of Charlie having serious arachnophobia. He looked down to see the spider, running out of the room in a panic, causing the great distortion of our classroom. But I wasn't the cause of it.

Then why was I here.

My hand shook as I gripped the stiff handle of the door. Inside, all eyes turned to me. The Blakelys' glare chilled me to the bone, followed by sympathetic glances from the other four forcing every hair on the back of my neck to stand on end.

Silence fell like bricks. I paused, attempting a calm composure as I stared at all the faces around me.

"Ah, there you are," the Principal, Dr. Ozwald, finally broke the silence, his voice slightly quaking. "We need to have a word with you."

"If it's about the spider-"

"Its not over some damn spider," Mrs. Blakely spat. "You-"

"Ma'am, now is not the time, and this is not the place," one of the cops stopped her short. He held up two stubby hands that clashed with his brooding appearance. The officer loomed over me, beady eyes glaring down at me. "We need to speak with you, son."

I followed him, along with Dr. Ozwald, on shaky legs into the guidance office. It wasn't a new place, I'd been in there once to discuss an idea for a football pep rally. The walls were covered in a gaudy blue wall paper with red trimming- the school colors- with a small metal desk in the center of the tiny room. Brilliant red chairs stood opposite of each other on either side of the desk. Random quotes from famous poets rendered the walls readable with things like "If you can dream it, you can do it." or "Remember, no one can make you feel inferior without your consent.". Homey, in an awkward school teacher way.

Dr. Ozwald motioned me to one of the chairs, taking the seat opposite of it, the officers stationing themselves behind him. Nearly blank stares coveted their faces.

"So, why are we meeting in here?" I took my designated seat.

"It has less traffic, and for this instance, I found it more suitable to limit our interruptions." He stopped, waiting for a response from me. When I didn't react, he cleared his throat, "What do you know of Charlie Blakey?"

There it is, the obvious part. Charlie was the main factor in this problem. "We used to be friends. We grew up together but when we got to high school, we sort of split into different groups."

Dr. Oscar raised his eyes brows, sending a pang of anxiety into my chest, "From what I heard from his parents, you started ignoring him. Is that true?"

I wasn't doing it on purpose! Okay, I was doing it on purpose, but not because I wanted to hurt him. I still wanted to be his friend, but I had other friends to hang out with.

I didn't say that. Instead, I shrunk deep into the cushions of my seat, "yes."

"Well, Charlie left you a note this morning and you ought to read it." Dr. Oscar spoke slowly, pulling a sealed envelope out of the pocket of his suit. He handed it to me, leaning back into his chair and waited for me to open it.

I did so, my nerves wracking my chest. What's going on here?

Inside was a bit of lined paper with his scribbles handwriting scrawled on it:

Toe Joe,

It's been a while since the last time we talked and I know it's all because of your new buddies but I want to apologize. I'm sorry I wasn't a friend worthy of your company and that I'm this fat blob of hideousness. I'm sorry for always embarrassing you and causing you to feel awkward around the team.

It's okay, though. I left you alone because you didn't want me to be around, just like of everyone else. Remember that last argument we had? Where you said no one would ever love me and that I should just disappear? You were right and I'm going to do as you said. I'm going to disappear.

My heart dropped to the floor as I read the last line. I did remember that argument. He had tried to talk to me at an after party one Friday night and Embarrassed my in front of the girl I was trying to talk to. I got angry and told him a fat lard of humanity has no place in the world and that every one would be batter off had he disappeared.

I didn't mean any of it though. I was drunk and he said he wouldn't take it personally. I held him up to that end of the bargain. "So what did he do? did her run away?"

Dr. Oscar looked up at me sympathetically from his position, "No Thomas. They found Charlie at the base of his apartment complex. It seems he had jumped from the roof and by the time officials got there, he was already gone."

No, that can't be. Charlie wouldn't. He always said final options were dumb and only left things worse than they were before. "What?"

"Charlie Blakely is dead."