Seven

7.5

Graham's Point of View

I'm in first period English class on a random Thursday. We're sitting in our desks, listening to the teacher. I can't focus. I can't look straight. I'm looking all around the room, drawing doodles on my paper, scrolling through social media on my phone, basically doing anything except for what Mrs. Langston is telling the class to do. Something's bugging me, and I can't figure out what it is. All I know is that it's a weird feeling, like something's off and my body is just trying to make my brain figure out what's up.

While my eyes are wandering between person to person amongst the desks in the room, my eyes lock with Myra, who is sitting on the opposite side of the classroom. I immediately look away. From the stories from Mackenzie, I don't love Myra, so I feel no need to make eye contact (or any type of contact, really) with her.

Almost another twenty minutes pass where I spend the entire time scribbling circles into a blank page on my notebook.

"Hello, students and faculty," Our principle, Mr. Conrad, says along the loudspeaker.

"Alright, guys, listen up!" Mrs. Langston exclaims, clapping her hands. I put my pencil down and actually try to focus for a minute. Usually our principle's announcements are stupid, but maybe today's different, I don't know.

"I come with some tragic news today that I know will be a very hard take for many students around our community. We were just braced with the news of a death of one of our own students, Mackenzie Coleman."

Did I just hear that right?

"Mackenzie committed suicide yesterday, and we are just learning of this."

Everyone's eyes and faces dart over to look at the desk in the third seat back, second row over. It's empty. Obviously it's empty, since that is Mackenzie's desk. Or, it was her desk.

I hear a scream, and I look away from the empty desk and it's Myra.

"Mackenzie!" She yells. She's crying extremely hard already.

"We are absolutely devastated with this news. Our guidance offices will be completely open for anyone that may need someone to talk to during this horrible time. We send thoughts towards Mackenzie's family and friends."

I don't notice until a tear falls onto my hand, but I'm crying too. I look around the classroom, and nearly half the class is in tears. Even some of the guys that were the worst to Mackenzie.

I can't believe she killed herself. I almost refuse to believe it.

She was literally in this class. Just a day ago, she was sitting in that exact desk, probably feeling so horrible, and I was such a bad person that I couldn't do anything about it. Nobody did anything about it besides make it worse. I feel so horrible.

"I know this is really awful news," Mrs. Langston announces, wiping her own tears away. "This is a very sad and sensitive topic. Mackenzie was clearly a classmate of all of you, so I want you to be there to support each other. We don't have to do anything for the rest of class."

"I think I'm going to throw up," Myra announces to the class. I look at her face and it's remarkably pale, but also soaked with tears.

"Myra, can I walk you to guidance?"

"I don't want to talk to a guidance counselor!" Myra screams. "The guidance counselors at this school are so bad, they don't help with anything! I don't want to talk to anybody!"

"Would you like to leave? Go home?" Mrs. Langston suggests.

"I don't know."

For once in my life, I actually feel bad for Myra. I know I should be feeling the worst for Mackenzie, but Myra is the one making me feel so bad right now.