No one in here ever gets any letters. Today, I received a letter.
Dear Mr. Peterson
I am aware that you have been a great friend to my daughter. I would like to inform you that as of Monday, April 15th, she had deceased due to an accident with her motorcycle. Her funeral will be held on April 21st, at our community church. She would appreciate it if you are able to attend.
Best regards,
Mr. and Mrs. Harper
I couldn't breathe as I reread the letter over and over again, unwilling to accept the words as the truth. Rain couldn't die. She can't. She's waiting for me.
The next three days passed in a haze. I remember Todd trying to talk to me; I didn't have the energy or the will to respond to him. My brain was numbed. My eyes hurt from crying. My only will to live was gone. All I wanted to do was to see her again.
On the night of April 20th, I was determined. There was a window in my room five feet above my bed. A screen guarded the exit, only locks stopped me from escaping. Problem is, I didn't have the keys. Ms. Campbell has the keys.
At breakfast, I explained my plan to Todd. Thanks to the magical art of ASL, no one but us understood the plan.
You want to do what? He asked.
Her funeral is today. I explained.
He didn't seem to get it. Probably because I didn't tell her she was dead. What happened? He asked after a moment of stillness.
A motorcycle accident. I reply in a rush. That was the last thing I wanted to be thinking about.
Where are the keys?
I smiled weakly; this is why we are friends. In Ms. Campbell's office.
YOU ARE READING
Silence is Golden
DragosteThis was Aiden's last year in high school, and he was determined to make it a great year. That didn't really work out very well for him. Like all seniors, he was forced to deal with the usual struggles, college, classes, teachers, romance. Throughou...
