Looking back, there’s no way any of us could have known what we were getting into when we walked into the high school, senior year, on the first day back from winter break. We had no clue that Jacob was going mad on us, had no clue that he was suicidal, and wanted to take every one of his five friends with him.
We had no clue that anything was wrong at all.
Now a year later, as three of the original six of our group sit around Jacob’s room, sprawled across the bed, the floor, and at his old computer desk, we are finally able to begin to piece together what has been haunting us, what has scarred us beyond repair (both mentally and physically), that which gives us our own depressing, confused and jumbled thoughts and feelings, all the horrific nightmares.
We didn’t know anything.
As Ryan, Louis (Louie), and I, sat and made ourselves at home in Jacob's room, and went through every single piece of paper, notebook, letter upon letter of confessions and suicide notes. the words jumped out at me like a fire alarm catching everyone off guard and making you jump in fear of a real disaster happening. The fire alarm blaring right in your ear.
As if to say, "Look at me! Look at me! Here's the sign of a tragedy, and you missed it, you're a horrible friend!”
Looking at those words made me feel claustrophobic, and incredibly sick to my stomach. I stood up from my position on the floor leaning my back to the bed, and ran out of the room into the bathroom, right and a couple doors down the hall from Jacob's bedroom.
I knelt down to hover above the toilet, breathing heavily, and dry heaving nothing due to the fact that I haven't eaten at all today. I didn't think the boys had either.
Sighing heavily, and with my body deciding it was done trying to come up with something to spill into the porcelain bowl beneath me, I made my way downstairs, into the kitchen to get a glass of cold water to settle my still churning stomach.
Jacob's mom handed me the cold glass, looking at me sympathetically, she must've heard what had happened. But what I didn't understand, was why she would be sympathetic towards me and the boys, considering that it was her own son who was dead.
But then again, nothing ever made sense to me anymore.
We sat in silence at the kitchen counter, silently thinking to ourselves. Just as I finished my water, Louis came down the stairs, looking around, more than likely for me, checking to see if I was okay.
"Hey, Gracie, you okay?" he asked me carefully. I gave him a fake smile, and reply; "Yeah, I'm fine. I'll be up there in a moment. Just going to get another quick drink.
He attempts to fake smile back at me, silently saying okay, and that he knows I'm lying when I say I'm okay, because I am definitely not okay.
Turning to fill my glass up half way with more water, I drained the glass once more, and setting it in the sink, I made my way back up the stairs and into Jacob's room once again.
When I arrived back in Jacobs room, it was to find both Ryan and Louis hunched over an open notebook perched on the desk on the other side of the room, beneath the window. Curious as to what they were reading, I walked over to the two boys and stuck my head under Louis’ arm, peering at the words below. What I saw there, brought every memory of that horrific day tumbling into my mind, rendering me motionless as my mind began slipping away into a hazy world: where I couldn’t breathe, and the day where everything went to hell played out once again…
