Murder

Chapter 1- The Beginning of The End

I can't see. There are too many tears in my eyes. I don't feel anything. I want to, but I can't. I'm not mad or sad. I'm just numb. How could this happen? To him of all people? The detectives voice rang in my ears. "Murdered," that's what he said. After a week of my brother being missing, he had been found dead. I can't believe this is happening. The word played over and over in my head. "Murdered. Your brother was murdered. You're all alone now." My thoughts spiraled. I've never been so lonely. My face stings, my cheeks are getting hot. Tears are pouring down my face and they won't stop. I'm alone. My brother is dead.

There's a knock at my bedroom door. Rose and Jenny walk in. "Hey, we figured you'd want some support. As your best friends, we don't want you to go through this alone," Jenny states. Her voice is shaky, and I can hear her sympathy. I hate sympathy. I look away. I'm the strongest out of the three, they don't need to see me like this. They don't need to see me cry. I turned away, pretending to be fascinated by one of the posters on my wall.

"I don't need or want your sympathy. You two should know that by now. But thanks for coming," I'm trying to make my voice as cheerful and steady as I can, attempting to blink away the tears as well. But they keep coming, and I hate myself for it. Rose and Jenny are crying too. I'm always the one that doesn't cry, I keep them calm. The tables are starting to turn, and I hate it. I hate this whole situation. I hate that he died. I hate the sympathy. I hate everything about this.

"We know, but we need to give you our sympathy. You don't always have to be strong-willed and unfeeling, you know," Rose is able to choke out between sobs. I still can't look at them. Not like this. I hate to see them cry, and they've never seen me cry. There's no telling how much worse it'd get.
"The rest of the group wants to know how you're doing," Jenny's voice is still shaky. She's probably looking at me like I'm some kind of kicked puppy, I hate that look. I can feel it. Her eyes are burning holes in the back of my head. I wish she'd stop. I wish she'd leave. That sounds like a horrible thought but I just need them to go away. I'm going to feel alone no matter what, I'd like to at least be alone with my thoughts.

"Tell them I'm fine," I'm not fine. I'm broken.I just hope that they can't tell. I know that they can. Maybe they don't know just how bad I'm feeling. I might be able to play it off like it's not too big a deal.

"Look, we know how much Cole meant to you. We also know that you took a harder hit than your parents did with this," Jenny states as calmly as she can. "You can't just pretend you're ok. Talk to somebody," she continues.

I am filled with mixed emotions. I am angry with the world. I feel sorry for my parents. I am grateful for having such amazing friends. But all my feelings are overpowered with seething rage at this point. "A harder hit than my parents?" Apparently I'm more angry than anything else. "They have another child. I have no other brother. Of course I took 'a harder hit than my parents' do you think I don't care?" I'm screaming. I didn't realize I'm screaming. I stop when I see the horrified looks on their faces.

"Ash...of course we don't think that," Rose looks scared. I don't usually snap at them. I have no idea why I did. I didn't realize it did until it was too late. God I'm an idiot. They're only trying to help. Why did I do that?

"Look, guys, I appreciate the concern but can you come back another time? I just want to be alone. I'm tired," It's true. I don't know why but I feel exhausted, like I haven't slept in twelve years.

"Look, you're fourteen. You don't need to go through this alone. If you want to talk, call one of us," Jenny said, with that ever-so-hated sympathetic tone.
"I will, but I think I need some sleep, ok?"

"Ok, we're leaving. We'll be back tomorrow." Rose starts walking out of the door.

I close my eyes. I'm alone now, I hear the door close, but I still don't want to cry. I fall back onto my bed, an exasperated sigh escapes my lips. I'm so tired. I want to sleep, and when I wake up, this day will be just a slight memory of a horrible dream. I can't wait for it to end. I lay there in silence, willing myself to go to sleep, but I can't. I squeeze my eyes shut tighter, steady my breathing, and try to clear my mind.