The Beginning of the End

XII.

rated r chapter

btw we're getting close to the end :((

Trying to imagine why Timothy killed himself plagued my thoughts as I strolled into April, the month of my eighteenth birthday. I, of course, knew that I had something to do it with—he was most likely guilty. I mean, think about it. Going to the point where you help one of your friends cheat on her boyfriend is pretty fucked up. 

Realizing that graduation was less than two months away didn't affect me at all. Maybe it was the fact that I was going to take a gap year for the rest of my life—if that even made sense—seemed appropriate for me to choose. I surprisingly comfortable with a decision I had made on my own.

Even my mom didn't care; she had seen everything that had happened to me in the past year, and she didn't want to put up an argument with me. The only thing she did was nod, embrace me, and whisper, "Stay as long as you need" into my ear.

My sister, on the other hand, had the reaction I expected my mom to have: "Adding on to your already disappointing life? Great. Thanks for not only ruining yours but also ruining mine with your presence."

It was a little weird having to see my friends telling each other of the colleges they were going to. How some of them were going with each other. How they wanted to explore the cities their colleges were located in. 

How they were ready for what the future had in store for them.

And I realized, I didn't have a future as of now. Unless you think to stay at my mom's house for, potentially, the rest of my life was a future for me.

The unfortunate, but also the total reality of what my life had become. And it all started because I met Florence.

I knew as I saw all these moments going on that if Florence had never been in my life, I would never have been so impacted by her death or of Timothy's. Hell, my life would have been so much easier if I had never affiliated myself with Claire and her bitchiness. 

Besides all the reminiscing of the times when life was better and normal, I still remember the day before my birthday. It was a Thursday, and I was fighting with my locker to let me place my books properly inside without them slipping out. I was a little startled a couple moments later when I heard some feet dragging on the hallway's linoleum floor.

It was Jess. She looked like absolute shit.

I threw whatever I had in my hands into the locker, slammed it shut before it could fall out, grabbed my backpack strap, lifted it onto my shoulder, and ran towards the mess that was Jess.

"Jess," I mumbled. I hadn't seen Jess in months and hadn't said a word to her in such a long time.

She abruptly turned, eyes wide. She wasn't wearing the bit of makeup she usually wore (consisting of some mascara and a tiny bit of foundation), and her hair strands were all over the place.

"What... What the fuck happened to you?" I inquired, grabbing hold of a severely bony shoulder.

"Shaun. It was Shaun," she muttered, eyes darting everywhere. Then she turned and started walking away, turning right as if wanting to exit the building.

I was completely dumbfounded. "What do you mean, Shaun? What'd he do?" I asked.

"What else would he do, JT?" she responded, pushing the doors open with her free arm. We both were greeted with harsh spring sunlight as I followed Jess outside.

"I don't know, Jess, what would he do? I'm not a Shaun expert like his girlfriend is," I stated bluntly, not wanting to sound like I had an attitude.