Funnest Is Not A Word

I'm Fine

When people ask you "How's it going?" Or "Whats up?", don't actually take them seriously. They don't really wish to know how it's going. They don't want to know that your sister died five weeks ago, and that you have put the blame on your shoulders. They don't want to know that you cry every single night, and sometimes during class when something reminds you of her. They don't want to share the sadness. I learned that the hard way. To put it in simple terms, I broke down in front of everyone because of a simple "What's up?" today. Next time, just say you're fine. Next time, just lie.
But, today's schools day was going to be over in 2 minutes, and with it my short lived embarrassment. Because to be honest, I have ceased to care about anything at all.

When the bell rings, I gather my backpack and quickly head out the door with my head down low. Keep your head down low, keep quiet, and don't be an excuse for people to gawk at. Well, anymore than they already did.
I fight past the crowds of towering students, and finally emerge outside where a long line of busses await.

I'm luck enough to live nearby. It's just a 3 minute walk at the most to my house.

"Casey!" A familiar voice shouts. I can't help it. I turn around. Lillian, my former best friend, is standing there hugging Casey. Her new best friend.

My eyes start to sting. This is what I'm missing out, I think. After Coral died, I started isolating myself. Pushing help away- pushing Lillian away. Eventually, she gave up and moved on. No one wants to be friends with a person that's sad all the time. No matter how close you are, or how much you think you love each other, it doesn't work out. Ever.

I practically run the rest of the way home, making it there in record time.
Slowly, I open the door, begging God to not wake my parents up.

No such luck.

"Rain? Is that you?" My mom's hoarse voice comes through to the front door.

"Yeah. It's me," I softly call out. I make my way out to their bedroom door, bracing myself for the repugnant smell of death and depression before entering.

"Hello, Mom." I forcefully smile. I take note of Dad still sleeping.

"How was your school day?" She asks me.

"It was fine. I got an A in-" I start off.

"Where's Coral?" My mom frowns. "You're always supposed to come home together, never leave her side. Did you leave her? Where is she?" My mom begins to panic.

"Mom," I repeat the process again. "She's not here right now."

Panic dies and confusion sets in. "Where is she?"

Anger builds up inside of me. Why? Why does this have to happen? God, please make everything turn back to normal, PLEASE!

"In a wonderful place. She's happy, Mom. Don't worry."

"Ok, ok. If she's happy, I'm happy. Coral, my sweetie...." She drifts off. She then closes her eyes, and stays silent. Sleeping again I'm presuming.

My stomach grumbles, hunger finally making a show. I shuffle into the kitchen, and open the fridge. Nothing. The fridge is literally empty. Well, with the exception of that suspicion looking jar of...green?

I decide to stick with dry cereal. It didn't help much with my starving state.
I probably lost weight, I think. I don't know what came upon me, but suddenly I needed to see my reflection. How long before I even glanced at a mirror? Too long.

I rush to the bathroom, hastily turning on the lights. I stare at the girl in front of me. It takes me a while to get used to my face, to acknowledge that it's mine. My eyes are dark and sullen, no surprise there. My hair had grown longer about an inch. It used to be a light shade of red, but now it's almost a dark copper. As if all the life had been sucked out of it.

As if all the life had been sucked out of me.

Sighing, I leave the bathroom and head over to my room. I flop down on my bed, and kick off my shoes. I stare at the white ceiling for a while. I've been doing that recently. Been doing so often, that I've memorized every crack and every shadow.

I turn over to the side, and finally let the tears come out.

So, now, ask me, "How are you?"

I'm fine. Perfectly fine.