Tubs

1 - The World Finds Out About Brandy Till's Death

Chapter 1 - The World Finds Out About Brandy Till's Death.

Our homeroom class had always been cold.

The AC was always turned down to about 55 fahrenheit, and our teacher Ms. Winston, would always insist on at least one window being kept open - which completely contradicted the reason the air conditioner was on in the first place.

But there was always something about the room that made it colder. I couldn't decide what it was. Maybe it was the beige rubber floors that reflected the temperature up the soles of our shoes, or possibly the bone white concrete walls that surrounded us up in the science departments where our homeroom was, resisting any of the air that wanted to come through unless the old windows were open. The dissected frog parts in the plastic box on top of one of the counters also validated as a reason as to why our mornings were always cold. There are many reasons every day as to why I walk into room 324, and feel a gush of cool air cause the goosebumps on my arms. The hairs on the back of my neck stand straight, feeling like small needles that won't fall off.

Today, I'm not sure, but have an idea on why the room was cold.

"Brandy Till died last night," Ms. Winston sat in her usual position on the squeaky blue swivel chair, announcing it as she would any other homeroom announcement given to her.

The classroom fell silent, not only in words, but in emotion too.

"We'd like for you to show respect to his family, so I'm going to pass a card around and I'd like everyone to write something nice in to it. Nothing inappropriate please, we're honouring someone's life," Ms. Winston stood up, her chair releasing a soft squeak and her grey hair bobbing slightly in the bun it was tightly wrapped in. She was wrong. We aren't honouring someone's life, Brandy isn't receiving a Nobel Peace prize. Brandy isn't alive, we're honouring his death more than anything.

Ms Winston cleared her throat and brought the light blue card to the first, closest desk she saw. It was Jay Tuno's desk. My lips parted, but with nothing to say, I closed my mouth.

Brandy's best friend.

Ms. Winston slid the paper on to the table, and without looking at anybody, went back to her seat and closed her eyes. She took of her glasses and placed them above her head, to make it easier for her to hide her face in her wrinkly grey hands while her elbows rested on the unorganized work surface in front of her.

Everybody's eyes averted to Jay's tense back. He hid himself behind his own rough hands like Ms. Winston did, and rubbed his temples softly.

"Ms. Winston. May I please be excused," Were the first words spoken from any of the students after Ms. Winston's announcement.

She shifted her hands up to her forehead, and nodded slowly. With that, Jay got up, lightly picked his bag from the floor, and calmly walked out of the room. Not a single breath released even when he closed the door shut behind him.

No one knew where to look, who to look at. There was always something interesting that happened in the room, any other day that is. Always something to take your mind off of the upcoming test, or the unfinished essay. Homeroom was everyone's take back from reality as they got ten minutes to do whatever they wanted in a single classroom, gossip, draw, write, no one would say anything about what you're doing, everyone would mind their own business. It was moment to hang out positively with people they see every day.

Seeing the same people every morning had become a norm, you remember their undefined facial features, and their distinctive mimics that belonged to them only.

I'm certain nearly everybody's heard of the little trick, where you move all the furniture in your house by an inch, and it won't look any different, but as soon as you start walking around it, that's when things feel out of place. That's when you accidentally stub your toe, or bump your knee, confused as to why you're so clumsy in this specific day before realising that all the furniture had been moved. Your mind gets used to one thing, and no matter a meter or an inch, it's going to realise, that one thing is out of place.

We have a big class, a big school.

We now have one student gone.

And without having to walk around, I can already tell;

Things are feeling out of place.

From thinking it was a benefit when school started, I sat on the first seat on the second row of desks that were arranged neatly for our caution. After a few students signed the page, the turn came to me. I didn't realise I wasn't writing anything until Tanya Paulo, the blonde girl who sat next to me, poked my shoulder and asked if I was going to do anything. My eyes looked down at my fingers that were holding the pencil so tightly to the point of them going red. What could I write? I didn't know Brandy that well, he was a grade above me, and I talked to him mostly at parties that he hosted, which still wasn't very often. I quickly jotted down the first thing that came to my mind before passing the paper and pencil to Tanya, revealing white marks with dents on my fingertips.

I'm very sorry for your loss, Brandy was a great guy. - Piper

He was a relatively friendly person, many people liked him. He played on all three sport teams that our school hosted. Football, Basketball, and Volleyball. He did Track and Field too. He was also considered exceedingly smart, accepted into an Ivy League University was what I heard. That's all about I can say of him. Brandy was a very attractive guy as well, he had a girlfriend who was equally as gorgeous, Felicity Goodman.

The things people close to him must be feeling right now.

I wasn't feeling hurt. Or sad.

Of course, the classroom had set a depressing mood, it didn't make me happy, but I wasn't feeling remorse.

I was confused. How did Brandy die? Who's most affected by this? Why did Jay leave? Is his funeral going to be public for us? Would I go to his funeral?

Is this real?

The bell rung loudly, queuing our first class of the day. My peers stood up almost in unison, they started chatting away as if nothing just happened. Though the majority of the whispers included the name 'Brandy' and 'death', they weren't heavily affected aside from a few girls that started crying, immediately causing a crowd of comfort to surround them. Their condolence had serenity, but it was completely intentional. They had no friendship that was personal to them and Brandy. They were grieving over disappointment, not sorrow.

I stood up weakly, my legs going wobbly by my knees. Uncertainty of questions over-filling my mind had made me zone out to unnecessary thoughts that I should've gone without. I lift my bag and twist it around one of my shoulders, and I let myself be pushed out of the door from the wave of other student's faking their way out to cry in the bathroom.

---