The Girl With Blue Hair

Chapter 4

After school, I headed straight to poetry club.

The door was wide open and my English teacher was sitting at her desk marking books. I knocked on the door.  Her head shot up.

"Lyra! You're half an hour early! Poetry club doesn't start until half past." she smiled.

"I know, Miss Reagan. I was hoping to have a word with you." I grabbed a chair and sat in front of her desk.

"Oh! Is this about what happened yesterday?" she asked with sympathy soaked in her voice.

"Kind of. Do you know what The Girl's name was?"

She smiled. "Arabella Justice. Have you finally decided to stop calling her The Girl With Blue Hair?"

Then, I smiled. "Yes. She had a cool name." I said.

Miss Reagan looked down into her lap. She was tearing up. "She was a lovely girl; shy but creative. Arabella wrote the most gorgeous poetry but she didn't want anyone to see it except for me. Very personal stuff."

"Do you think I could... see some of her work?" I asked. Miss Reagan looked uncertain. "I watched her die. All I want to do is see what she was like."

She sighed and rummaged through her drawer. She pulled out a thick file filled with papers.

"She had a hard life, Lyra; expressed it  in her poetry." Miss Reagan said, handing me the file.

I flipped through it carefully. I read the titles but one stood out to me.

Suicide

Can I sleep for eternity?
Could Nightmares awaken me?
Finally, peaceful slumber;
Left in my dreams to wander.

A tear fell from my eye. "Wake up, Arabella." I whispered.

"The poor girl. She had such a tragic childhood."

"What happened to her?" I sniffed.

"Her parents died in a car accident when she was around 6 years old. She and her sister had to live with their uncle. Arabella always denied it but I'm sure that man hurt the girls. She would come to school with bruises and cuts. I asked her to talk to someone but she always refused." Miss Reagan explained.

"Is her sister still with the uncle?" I asked.

"She should. Her sister is only 10." she stated. "Don't go looking for trouble, Lyra. I don't want anything to happen to you, too."

"I'm not looking for trouble; I'm looking for justice."

"We're all meeting in the hall on Sunday for a memorial. You should come."

"I'm there. I'll spread the word."

I held the file out to her but she pushed it back towards me.

"Keep it. She would've liked for you to read it."

"Thank you." I smiled.

***

I walked home after poetry club and immediately texted May.

"Hey. Can you do me favour?"

She replied almost instantly.

"Sure! What's up?"

"I need you to tell the school that there's a memorial for Arabella Justice this Sunday. It will be in the hall."

"Wait, Ly. Who's Arabella Justice?"

I could've screamed.

"The Girl With Blue Hair."

May didn't reply, but I got the message she sent about the memorial.

All I could do was hope that everyone would come.

I walked up to my room but stopped when I heard crying from my parents' room.

"Mom?" I called. I walked to the door. "Mom, are you okay?"

I stepped into the room to see my mother, weeping on the floor. I rushed to her side.

"Mom, what's going on?" I asked, hugging her tightly. She squeezed me and cried into my shoulder.

"Y-You're father... he-he... he cheated on me!" she wailed.

He wasn't on a business trip, was he? I shouldn't have been suprised. He had been away for so long, on "business trips".

"The mistress is pregnant!" she shouted. I wanted to comfort her but I was in pure shock.

"He's leaving us?"

My mother looked at me with sorrowful eyes.

"Yes."