Strangers

I.

As a child, in primary school and then some of middle, I’d never been a people person. There isn’t any dark, twisted reason behind it. I just like to keep to myself. I never really thought there was any point to having more than a friend you can depend on. I’d always been fairly happy that way, at least on the inside, I was peaceful. Later in middle school, I realized reading books in the corner quietly was suicide for my social life.

I grew hungry for more friends, more respect, for more people to notice me. By second year in high school, the present, I’ve managed to earn myself a reputation. People love me. My smile brings them to their knees. But I am not happy. I wasn’t the same anymore. Anyway, I shouldn’t be picky. I have to be happy. People die to be me. Let’s move on.

‘So . . . I’ll see you tomorrow?’ Aria smiles hopefully at me.

I feel a flash of annoyance

‘Of course’ I grin.

The grin was still etched onto my face as I pull my car into gear and start driving. I can’t afford to lose it. It’s visiting time in the hospital this Friday, and Sam would be waiting. Sam, my uncle. It isn’t like I want to visit him. The whole family is visiting. Around him I feel crazy. Dizzy. The sooner the old man dies, the better. I won’t ever forgive him for what he did.  

I walk into his hospital room and instantly debate running out. Everyone’s collected around him, holding flowers and cards. It’s sick. He suddenly looks at me, and I feel a wave of nausea.

‘Boy’

I force my grin wider and walk up to him. Looking into his eyes makes me want to curl up and sit in a corner alone.

‘Take this’

He pushes a button into my hands.

‘My gift to you’

 I never expected anything more from him. I was surprised I got a parting gift at all. Though when I look up, the sneer I thought I would see on his face isn’t there. Instead, there’s regret.

He closes his eyes, and the smile on his face looks frozen. Unreal. That’s when I hear the beep. I’m pushed into the wall, someone is pushing him onto a stretcher, He’s being taken out of the room. My whole family’s run out. The room’s empty, and I’m still on the ground sitting leaning on the wall. He’s dead.

Hours pass. I stay in the same position. When they come in, My mother and my father think that it’s weird that I stayed in that room, and thought I went into shock, which is true. My brother thinks that I am so sad I can’t even cry, which isn’t.

I don’t think I really want to go into more details of what happens next and what we talk about, and what my aunt says, and how much my father cries. That isn’t important. I will never think of it again.

When I finally climb into bed, glad for the end, I realize that there is a strange tugging on my heart. I AM sad. Just for all the wrong reasons . . .

I opened the door a crack and looked in. He was standing over her, and she looked beautiful. Her soft dark curls fell perfectly. Her face . . . she looked scared. Her dark eyes had a shadow over them. And he, he was all over her. My eyes widened. I ran in. My sister, tears running down her face, turned to me.

‘Teddy, no. Go’ She whispered.

‘OUT BOY’ He struck my face, and I was thrown out of the room.

He came out. Pushing me down, he kicked my stomach. It hurt. It hurt so much, I couldn’t even cry. I ran away. Into my room. There I sat. Alone. Waiting.

I could hear cries of protest from the room downstairs.

‘No. Please. No’ She begged.

It went on and on. I heard the door slam. I looked out of the window and saw him walking away. But I stayed where I was. I couldn’t move.

Sometime later, I heard a sharp sound, like a gunshot. I knew I had to see. It took all of my willpower to get up, walk down, and see her. Sprawled across the floor. I remember seeing her. I remember running to her. She looked beautiful. Dead beautiful.