Chapter 3
If there's one thing I've learned in life it's that you can never hide from anything. You've got to get up and face it. You can't cower in fear because that would just give people the satisfaction of seeing you scared.
This little philosophy of mine gave me pride. I liked knowing I was determined enough to follow something and stay following it.
Yet now, looking at the white envelope, I wanted to cower in fear. I did not want to be strong and hold my head up high. I wanted to tell the world I was done, done being brave. Let them have the satisfaction.
My mother clutches the letter in her hands, reading it over and over again, her face pale.
"We don't have to go" Dale pipes up. We turn to look at her. There's only an apple on her plate and she hasn't even touched that.
"Dale, is that your breakfast?" my mother asked, obviously concerned.
"Mom..." Dale groans.
"Dale, you are a growing girl, you need to eat more." Mom says, putting some toast on Dale's plate.
Dale looks at the toast. And she slowly bites it.
She's gonna puke it anyway.
*
I walk into the girls' bathroom. I immeadietly regret it when I see five girls in front of the mirror, retouching their makeup. They see me come in and shoot me death glares.
If only looks killed...
I go into a stall and once I'm done, I don't hesitate to get out of the stall as soon as I can.
I speed to the exit but before I can leave, Lina and a bunch of other girls block my way.
"Umm, I need to go?..." my voice trails off.
"So... Your name's Evanna right?" Lina asks. Her tone sounds friendly but I can hear hints of coldness in it.
She's playing a game and she wants me to be a piece, but I'll be the player.
"Yeah, and your Lina aren't you?" my inner girl comes out as I fake a friendly tone. I'd always wondered if I was actually a guy because I did not posess any of the traits other girls did, but now a days I was more sure of my gender.
"So, are you going to Finn's funeral? I was invited, of course because you know, me and Finn. We had a thing going on." she smiles proudly as she says thing, as if it's an honor to have dated Finn.
Except it was an honor.
I can see what she's doing. She wants me to refuse, to be weak and feeble. She wants me to say I won't go so she can have the satisfaction of knowing I was affected by Finn's death.
"Yes, I'm going. In fact I might make a speech about him" the words flow out of my mouth before I can stop them. I put my chin up in defiance and smile a little as I see Lina's expression.
"Well, I'll see you there." Lina and her clones move, giving me way.
In life, you've got to learn the rules of the game and then play it better than anyone else.
*
I regret my words as soon as I see a black dress in my closet.
I can't really make a speech on Finn Woods, can I?
I can't really go and face all those people?
If only I'd saved him, told him what life was worth, gave him a purpose. Then this whole mess wouldn't have happened.
They say it's selfish blaming everything on yourself but I can't help blaming myself. Maybe one day I will be much happier. I do believe in hope. But I just find it hard to find hope.
I believe that once I can clear my mind of all regrets, I'll be happy. But for now I keep regretting. Because that's how death goes. It makes you keep regretting. It makes you wish you had done something. It gives you the urge to bring that person back to life when the truth is the person is happier dead than alive.
I feel like there is a huge weight on my back. Everyday it gets heavier and heavier till one day, I will collapse from the strain of holding the weight. I cannot unload this weight. I cannot tell anyone.
No one understands. And that's just not for me. Humans will never understand fellow humans because we all intrepret things differently. You can understand to a certain extent but only from your point of view.
I finger the black dress, and I slowly make up my mind. I know what to do, and I know how to do it.
*
"And now Evanna Brooks shall make a speech about Finn Woods" the man says.
These are the words I was anticipating and these are the words that I was dreading. I swallow and slowly get up. I can feel eyes on me. There must be at least a hundred people in this room. Even people who weren't invited crammed in, standing at the back.
These hundred people have two eyes, and hundred multiplied by two is two hundred and at least two hundred eyes rest upon me.
I swallow once more. Saying my stomach was a pit of butterflies would be an underestimation. It seemed like someone had let out the whole zoo.
I slowly walk up to the stage and grab the mic. The two hundred eyes still rest on me. Some of the people are murmuring to themselves. I catch the words, "garden", "death", and "murder".
I clear my throat.
Well, it's now or never.
"Hello." I begin. The voices hush gradually until the hall is quiet.
"Many of you think that my family and I are responsible for the death of Finn Woods. We have been accused, we are part of the investigation because you refuse to believe that it was suicide." I pause and a few murmurs break out again.
"You believe that Finn Woods could not have possibly commited suicide. But guess what? He did. Just because Finn Woods might have had all the materialistic needs, good looks, money, and a status he was strained to uphold does not necessarily mean Finn Woods was happy. In fact all these materialistic needs made him worse and they are one of the main reasons of his suicide. I can hear angry voices and I know you believe it is not true. Finn Woods was under the limelight constantly. Whatever he did was scrutinized by the public. He was a role model to other boys. He couldn't ever let his emotional side show or he would be labelled as a faggot. Finn Woods had to cover up his emotions, he had to mask them. A month before his death, he began pushing everyone away, shutting everyone out. He didn't shut everyone out because he was a jerk. He shut everyone out because he believed if he let anyone in, they would know he had feelings and use that. And how do I know all of this if I never started a proper lasting conversation with Finn Woods? Because I observed Finn Woods, I observed his moves, something you never did. You never saw the way he'd smile and when you'd turn away, the smile would become a look of utmost sadness. You just saw Finn Woods, captain of the football team. You never liked Finn Woods, none of you did. You liked his image, the Finn Woods everyone thought he was, the Finn Woods everyone expected him to be. And I know it was suicide because I watched Finn Woods die. It's always been rather of a fixation to me to wake up at midnight and go out to the garden and that's what I did the night Finn Woods died. I watched him come in, I watched him hang himself. And I did nothing about it. Finn Woods death was suicide. But it was also murder. Had I reached out to Finn Wood, it would have been alright, he wouldn't have died. But I let him die and I watched him die. And I am partly responsible for his death." I finish my speech. I didn't notice while I was talking, but tears form in my eyes. The truth dawns on me. And I look at everyone, I look at their faces.
The burden is off my back yet another heavier burden is placed on my back. And I look at their unfriendly faces and I run out of the hall.
I killed Finn Woods.
Author's Note: Dedicated to Zyla The Muggle. Picture of Dale to the side ->
Love,
Sowmya
