fractures

everything i need to know

Layne

The memory cuts halfway.

I lie on my bed, recalling everything Abbey and I had found out and discussed about Marlene's death.

Abbey thinks it's suicide. Now, even though I don't want to, I think so too. Why?

#1 Marlene's Askfm answers were about suicide.

#2 What Penelope said to Marlene in Instagram might have affected her.

#3 Marlene was upset (or maybe depressed) for quite a while before she died.

#4 There's whatever Gwyneth meant by whether or not I was sure that I really want to know what happened.

I'm finally remembering things. But there are still so many gaps.

I try and push my brain to remember. I think and think and think until my entire brain feels numb. Bits and pieces come back to me, but nothing solid. Memories teeter on the edge of my mind, but every time I reach out to grab them, they fall over the edge. It's like everything is working against me.

I want to scream. I want to scream and yell and kick until my memories obediently come back to me one by one and apologise for leaving.

Just when I'm about to tear my head apart, an idea pops up in my mind. A good - no, great - idea.

I need answers, and there's only one place I can get them.

-

Abbey jogs up to me on the sidewalk. "You found out why she died?"

"No, not exactly. But I'm halfway there. You were right, about the suicide," I say, and it's a struggle to actually admit it. "But the reasons, everything, we need to find out."

"And I'm guessing you called me out here to meet you because you know where to find them?" Abbey asks.

"Yep," I reply, leading the way down the sidewalk.

"And you need my help finding them?"

Yes. Well, actually, no. I just don't have the guts to go where I'm going alone. I can't face it by myself, I just can't. Marlene, I hope you understand. Anyways, I already told Abbey she could help me. No point keeping this from her.

"Where are we going?"

"You'll see."

-

"Lo and behold, Marlene's house," I say with a dramatic flair. "I'm betting it'll have all the answers we need."

Abbey looks skeptical. "And how are we going inside? Are we breaking in like a band of thieves?"

I fish out a set of keys from my pocket. "I came prepared."

"You have the keys to her house?"

"We were close," I reply in a matter of fact way. "Marlene trusted me to not just break in and do whatever I want."

Abbey still has that skeptical look on her face. "But aren't we breaking in now? Won't her parents be in there? Won't they wonder why there's some random teenage girls entering their house without invitation?"

I can't help but roll my eyes. "And you say I think too much."

Abbey ignores me and looks at me expectantly, waiting for me to answer her questions.

"Her mother isn't home, as you can see. But if she does come back while we're inside, well...we'll deal with that when it comes," I decide, although I sure don't want to face the wrath of her mother (she can be scary when she wants to be). "Besides, we aren't breaking in. We're using keys for goodness sake."

Abbey shrugs, still seemingly unconvinced. But she gives in with a whatever-you-say look.

With that, I walk up to the front door of Marlene's house, and unlock the door before I lose the nerve to do so. I haven't been here in ages. In the months leading up to Marlene's death, Marlene hadn't wanted me going to her house. She said that her parents were very, very busy. And I believed her.

I close the door and am sure to lock it just in case Marlene's mother returns. Then I lead the way up the stairs to Marlene's room.

A deep ache suffuses me when I enter her room, when I turn everywhere and all I see is Marlene. Everything in Marlene's room reminds me of her, the books on her shelf, the figurines on her desk, the photo frames beside her bed.

"You too seemed really close," Abbey comments, leaning down to get a closer look at one of the pictures.

It's of Marlene and me when we were younger, arms thrown around each other, laughing like nothing else in the world mattered. I miss those days.

I have to give myself a couple of mental slaps to get myself to focus on the task at hand instead of recalling fond memories. I came here to find answers. I'm not leaving without them.

Leaving Abbey to wander about Marlene's room, I look through Marlene's things. Her books, mainly, to see if she's written anything about what was happening in her family. With all that I can remember at the moment, the only thing I can think of that Marlene might have been upset about is family problems. I only read through the books that seem most likely to contain an answer, because it feels wrong to just scan through all of her things just like that.

After looking around for about fifteen minutes, I find what I was hoping to. A diary. Her diary. It'll have everything I need to know.

Everything.