The Day She Died

Confusion

         I stopped in my tacks as Yosagi cursed out loud beside me and Mukami started screeching like a banshee and snapping pictures with his school camera. I slowly walked out and around the body, not recognizing the face now that it was smashed and cracked open lime an egg. This was why people thought I was weird, normal stuff that should make others scream and cry with fright and fear didn't upset me. I crouched down near the girl:s body, noticing her student ID was falling out if her pocket and grabbed it, reading off Himichi Minami. I dropped the ID and stood up, stumbling back. It was as if she had thrown herself from the roof, but she shouldn't have any reason why to do this.

           I looked up at the roof, noticing a spot of red in the air, my eyes widening as they adjusted to see what looked like Kota on the roof. Without thinking about it, I ran back inside, heading towards the stairs to the roof of the place, my heart and mind racing fast and hard. He was new, so why, why would he be up there when she fell? Had they been talking, or had he just gone up when she threw herself off? I didn't know, couldn't know, and by the time I reached the roof and threw open the door, he was gone. I was panting hard, having to lean over on my knees, my hands on them and trying to recover my breath. She was my child hood friend, just like Yosagi. Why did she do this when we had just talked to each other that morning? I walked out onto the roof, looking around and seeing her bag, and food was on the ground, as if she had just been eating. I went over, picking up her bag and a notebook fell out, showing a drawing of Kota, a very old one, as if it was 30 years old, the paper yellowing on the edges. I took it out of the notebook, looking at the signature which was from Hinami's mother. It confused me, and I decided to keep this picture, stuffing it into my back pocket and leaving her stuff where it had been. I didn't want to mess with the scene the police would surely be investigating. So I left it, my heart sinking that someone else I cared about was gone now, she had been the most rational of us too, the best president we had.

           I walked into my house, not even bother I g to say hi to mom or dad whom was in the living room and heading straight up to my room, throwing my bag on the bed and pulling the picture out of my back pocket, looking at the illustration of Kota from 30 years ago. It looked like Hinami's mom drew this while she was sitting with him, his face appearing peaceful, but his eyes looked distant, and cold. And this was just a drawing, which her mother was an amazing and well known artist now a days too. I couldn't believe how well she had made the emotion appear on his face, his every curve of his lips, and the fullness of his hair. I let out a sigh, tossing the picture on top of my desk and leaning back in my computer chair. This made no sense, but I wanted to know how her mother had known this stranger who looked just like the boy in his class. It might've been his father, but would they really this much alike at the same age and time in life? And wasn't Hinami's mother a foreigner anyways? She hasn't gone to school in Japan.....