Ruthless

The Knife

I had walked through school with a breath taking smile and my eyes bloodshot. I had stayed up crying the night before, my heart was utterly broken and damaged. Torn out of my chest and stomped and cut at for hours.

But, I would never admit to that.

"Attention Everett High School, but it is sad to say that Arson Blackwell had committed suicide later yesterday. In our very own auditorium. In memory of Arsen the school would like to dedicate the gymnasium to him, for his hard work and sports scholarships. Thank you and have a nice day."

I only stared at the speaker. That was until Olivia Gordon, Arsen's girlfriend, ran down the hall, tears in her eyes, and screams emitting from her sore throat. I knew it had hit her hard, I mean her cherished boyfriend just committed suicide, how could she not hurt?

Olivia had always been a sweet girl, even if others didn't think so. She was gorgeous, funny, and had a  beautiful personality.  No wonder Arsen had fallen in love. Sure she had her ups and downs, but she really was a beautiful soul.

Though, Olivia wasn't the only one grieving the lost. The football players had tear stains on their cheeks, and cheerleaders crying on their broad shoulders. Goths without makeup, mean girls without heels, art kids without paint. We were all in pain, whether you knew Arsen or not. It will always hurt.

* * *

I was now sitting in the writing class I had discovered this year. Where Arsen had taken the seat next to mine. We had always critiqued each others work, pointed out spelling errors, or just reading. And let's just say Arsen had some beautiful pieces.

Now, I sat in class with Ms. Ambur standing at the front with tears in her eyes also.

"Oh Arsen. Why didn't you put the gun down?" She had spoken in a regular voice so full of sorrow. The class grew dead silent.

"Because he hurt." The broken voice of Michigan Manors, lacrosse captain, had rung out. My head lifted only enough to survey the class, until my eyes landed on the empty desk next to mine. I was silently hoping Arsen would show up and goof off. Or write poetry. Or smile.

But, he was dead.

And all of us knew that. I knew it. Michigan knew it. Ms. Ambur knew it.

Everyone would always know it.

And it broke my heart.