Daddy hugs me as I get on the bus for the first time. "Bye sweetheart. Have a good day." He says as he releases me. I can tell my mother is holding in tears as she waves goodbye. I've finally, after five years, accepted them as my parents. They love me, and I love them. I still think of my old parents often, as well as my old friends. I wonder if my parents have another child now, or if my friends have forgotten me. The thought makes my heart clench, but I ignore it.
The bus is crowded with rowdy kids. I'm quite short for my age, and the seats are as tall as I am. I hoist myself into one near the front, and dangle my little feet. Mommy helped me pack my things this morning into my new princess backpack. I feel like I should be in high school, but I also don't. I can't remember much math other than multiplying, but I can read fluently. My parents call me gifted, but I know it's just from my old life. I met my teacher last night, Mrs. Athens. She was about sixty, and very kind. she shook my hand like I was a grown up, not a little five year old. Mrs. Athens had light blonde hair, dyed of course, and wrinkled hands. I had a seat in the front which I enjoyed, I could show off my smarts.
I swung my legs as the bus rode along. It stopped yet again, and a boy hopped on. He had a gap in his teeth, and a few were issing. He had curly, blonde hair, and a spider man backpack. He was almost jumping from excitement, and sat down next to me. "Hi, i'm Jack." He said with another grin. "i'm Zoe." i say quietly, and he holds out his hand. "Aren't you excited?" He asks, and I notice his feet dangle too. I think I've found a new friend. "Yeah." I say.
We talk all the way to school, and he never shuts up. He talks about video games, his dogs, his brothers, his house. "My older brother Mack is in his room a lot. I hear him play video games all the time. He and my dad yell all the time." He says, and I almost laugh. Mack seems like that one lazy kid that everyone makes fun of. Instead, I smile a little and keep listening. When we get to school, we walk to our class together. "Who's your teacher?" He asks. "Mrs. Athens." I say, and he jumps in the air, "me too!" He says. We walk to class, and he sits at the back of class with a bunch of other boys.
I try to pay attention to Mrs. Athens, but it's hard. I want to talk to Jack again, just to have someone to talk to. When she asks me a question, I answer truthfully. "I can solve equations." I say when Mrs. Athens ask if I know much math. She smiles like most adults would when a five year old says that. "Okay, let me see." She says, and writes a question on the board. I almost laugh out load. Ten plus ten, ha! "Twenty." I say. She writes another question. "One hundred."
"Seventy-five."
"One thousand two hundred and seven."
"X equals twelve."
She looks at me in wonder. "Did your mommy teach you that?" She says, and I shake my head. "I just know." I lie. After that, she doesn't really bother with the other kids. I do math, and read. She brings in the fifth grade math teacher, who treats this like a joke until I get every question she asks right. I smile happily to myself, proud of how smart I am to these people. When we go out for recess, Mrs. Athens and the other teacher look at me and talk to themselves. Jack and I just play on the playground. We play tag, and he's much faster than me, I've always been slow. We abandon that and go to climbing. I climb the slide, he climbs a pole; I climb the basketball hoop, he goes to the top. When he climbs the tallest tree, I get worried. "Be careful Jack! You could eat hurt!" I shout, but he keeps going up.
I see the tree branch lean, then snap. Mrs. Athens runs toward us. Jacks crying, and his arms twisted a weird way. He shouts, and it's filled with pain. He's moaning, and crying. I cover my eyes until the ambulance comes and takes him away. Mrs. Athens gives me a hug, and I uncover my eyes. "It's okay Zoe. It's okay, he'll be okay." She says in a soothing voice. I stand next to her until mommy comes and envelops me in a huge hug. "Oh sweetheart, I'm sorry you saw that." She says when she lets go of me. I still can't get the picture of Jacks mangled arm out of my head.
When we drive home, we stop at Sonic. My mother asks for the hundredth time if I'm alright, and I nod. I sip silently on my strawberry shake, finishing with a final slurp. I wait for mom to finish, then we head to the car. I sit in my car seat, watching my mothers forehead crease with worry. "Are you sure you're alright?" She asks, and I roll my eyes and she laughs slightly. She exhales loudly, and we hit the driveway.
I rush to my room, much to mothers surprise. Usually, I tend to stay away from my room. I go to a medical website, looking up situations like Jacks. In severe cases, broken necks, paralysis, on rare occasions, death. In cases similar to Jacks, broken limbs, maybe a minor head injury, nothing fatal. I turn off the computer, and turn on the tv. I multitask by listening to music and watching tv at the same time. Mother doesn't like my taste in music, but no parent would. I'm a sixteen year old stuck in a child's body, so I listen to pop and rap.
When mom calls me for dinner, I trudge out. My little five year old body is already tired. I eat tiny portions of chicken nuggets, and potatoes. Laura, our chef, knows my favorites. "Zoe, why are you not eating?" She asks, and I don't say anything, just nibble on my food. I honestly don't know why I'm not hungry, maybe out of worry for Jack.
When I fall asleep, I dream. I dream of my mom, I see her crying. I see my friends sitting at lunch silently. No one says anything, and I watch from above. I want them to smile, just once, to settle my nerves. Why did I have to die?
Sadie POV
Lunch is an awkward occasion. We sit in silence, silently chewing on our food. It doesn't taste like anything anymore, I just chew. Leila used to be the one who talked, who would lift my spirits on a bad day. People used to tell me sorry, teachers would pat me on the back, but they don't anymore. Everyone's moved on, forgotten. For me though, it's pretty hard to forget your best friend.
My parents say I'm depressed, that I should go to therapy, I laugh. I'm depressed, but no one can change that. Their cruel if they wNt me to forget Leila, if they want me to move on. I don't want to, I want to be the person who still cries about her in ten years. I go back to chewing my food in silence.
Carly POV
The jail is depressing, but that's not to surprising. I sit behind the glass, and he walks in. I clench my fists, and my husband puts a hand on my back. Darius Neer, the man who killed my daughter, is a few feet away from me. His face sags, his back is hunched, and he doesn't look at me. I clench my teeth tightly, and try not to yell obscenities at him. "Are you her parents." He says quietly, lifting his head. He looks tired, defeated. I nod, and he goes on. "I'm sorry. I'm so so sorry. I hate myself." Then he launches into a speech I can tell he's prepared for. It talks about that night, what happened, his guilt.
By the end of the speech, tears line his dead eyes. A small, merciful part of my heart feels for him, the rest hates him. My daughter is dead, and it's all his fault. When I can't take it anymore, I get up and leave. I rub my forehead, taking deep breaths. I miss my daughter enormously, but what's done is done. She's in a better place, I need to convince myself of that.
I go into the parking Lott, and my husband eventually meets me in the car. "I know he's done bad things, but he's sincere in his apology. He wants to kill himself Carly. He told me that himself." He says, but I don't process it. I cry, sobs racking my body. He holds me, telling me it's alright, but it isn't. It never will be.
