Story of Us

Pansies

But I didn't die, no I was in the store cupboard. Mud was glued to my uniform, my hair, my skin and I was soaked to the bone. Lloyd and Harper's blood dripped from my fingers and I struggled not to vomit. What was I supposed to? Just run out into the library. Just run away. Did I have any other option?

I could have curled up behind the boxes and just died right there. Lloyd was gone and the pain was unbearable. I had to go though, I had to be strong again. But I was sick of being strong, for Dad, for Mum. The book lay in front of me, and with frozen, bloodied hands, I picked it up. I hysterically flipped through the pages and my face crumpled as I saw how it contained every detail of Lloyd's death.

I forced myself not to cry again and prepared to run. I couldn't believe I was doing this but I had no choice. I was going to go down to the gym showers and try and look normal. Try and hide my feelings, again. I took a giant breath and burst out the door, then ran as fast as my legs would carry me. Down the stairs, down corridors of alarmed children and into the gym showers. I locked the cubicle door and frantically showered, scrubbing off every inch of dirt and blood and trying to regain body heat.

Fortunately, I had a change of clothes in my bag, because Dave had organised for us to go swimming after school. I scrambled into a pair of skinny jeans and a wooly maroon jumper. I shoved my feet into my worn brown boots and then clattered out of the cubicle. I dumped my uniform and school shoes in the gym store, then I started running. I couldn't go out the front because of the security cameras. 

I kept my head down all the way to the girl's toilets. It had a large window that I would be able to slip out of and onto the street. I had lunch money that I could use for a bus ticket to town. On the edge of town was a graveyard, where my Mum was buried. It felt like the place I needed to be. Nobody was in the toilets and I managed to wedge open the window with my bag. I clambered onto the sink and then hooked one leg up onto the window ledge. I pushed myself up and then slid out of the window, managing to pull my bag out too. 

I landed on my knees on the path and grabbed my bag. I began to run towards the bus stop.

**************************************************************************************

*Author's Note*

Inspired by 'Miserable At Best' by Mayday Parade.

*******

I had to wait twenty minutes for the bus, but eventually it came. I flumped down onto a vacant seat and pulled out the book. The title almost made me laugh, but with no humour. 'The Story of Us'. Well obviously it didn't have a happy ending and was very short.

The pages of the book had dirt shading the corners and bloodied fingerprints across the recent pages. It looked a bit gory for a casual read on the bus, so I decided to put it back in my bag. Lloyd's death tugged on my heart, making me feel so utterly useless. I saved my tears and my goodbyes for the graveyard.

The bus slowed down as we reached town center and I quickly hopped off the bus. I started the walk behind town, up the hill to the graveyard. On the way I saw loads of wild pansies in the grass verge, I picked a few to put on Mum's grave - they were her favourite flowers.

Soon the little path up to the graveyard was in front of me and I jogged up it until I came into the graveyard clearing. The sun was just peering through the clouds, causing the trees that surrounded the graveyard to light up with green. The graveyard was empty, but it wasn't scary at all. It felt comforting and peaceful.

I found Mum's grave and at crossed legged in front of it. I lay the pansies upon the grave and let the tears roll down my face, silently.

"I miss you Mum," I mumbled, my fingers fluttering over the pansy petals.

I took out the book, and placed it on my lap. I wanted Dad back, I wanted Mum back, I wanted Lloyd back. The tears came hard now, my shoulders shuddering after every breath. Everybody leaves me, even the ones who promised they never would. 

I desperately read every page of our book, hoping that I might find clues, that Lloyd might not have... gone... forever. After the sadness, I always had a pang of anger. Anger and hatred at the pain, at everyone that hurt me, meaning to or not. I had to hit something, I had to let it out. But I didn't I just curled up in a ball, the book above me and a pen in my hand.

Together. Together. Together. Together.

I scribbled over and over again, ocassionally piercing the pages.

"Come back, please come back," I managed to choke out.

I stopped scribbling and pulled the book to my chest.

"Together," I whispered, my tears drawing to a close.

And then, and then...

A warm hand touched my shoulder, gently.

"Together," he said.