After You

Finn

Dear Alfie,

Mrs Linton, I'm sorry if this isn't the best written letter ever. I don't really know how to do this, I haven't really written letters before and it's a bit hard to write to Alfie like he's alive because he isn't.

So hi Alfie. How are you? That's a stupid thing to write. A) You're not going to answer, and B) even if you did, you're blatantly not going to say "oh, I'm great, cheers", are you? I'm glad we're not getting marked on these letters. At least, I hope we're not getting marked on them. I didn't ask Mrs Linton before I left. I just wanted to get out of that room. It really is The Bad News Room. Remember in Year Seven, you had this idea that the room was only ever used if someone had to be told bad news? Technically, you were right. It's used for counselling, whenever the school decides that a pupil needs it.

Technically, as sixth formers, we can refuse the counselling if we don't want it. I was going to, but then Willow said it would be a good idea for us all, to help us be at peace with your death. I don't know how I can be at peace with my best friend being dead, but maybe that's what the counsellor will help us with. The first session didn't give much away. She introduced herself and I introduced myself like some kind of awkward speed dating thing – really awkward seeing as she's about fifty – and then she asked me to write a letter to you and bring it to the next session and then she sent me back to class. I was kind of expecting some circle of trust thing where we all pass a box of tissues around and cry over memories of you, so in comparison, I was quite relieved. It could've been much worse.

School is going well. Is that bragging? Does it count as bragging if you're not actually going to read it? I don't know what I can say to you that wouldn't seem like bragging, because you won't go to school again. But then again, you won't read this, so you won't know. I'm getting all mixed up and running around in circles with this, I'll ask Mrs Linton next week if I need to worry about bragging in these letters. I don't want to make you feel bad. But you're dead, so you don't really feel anything. Sorry.

Sometimes it's a bit weird because I walk into class and teachers do that strange thing with their mouth where it's like they're smiling, but their eyes look sad. I wouldn't call it a sad smile, because it isn't really sad and it isn't a smile either. It's like a grimace. Like they're happy to see me but worried I'll burst into tears. I keep trying to tell them that I'm okay, and then they do the not-sad not-smile again and they nod. It's even worse when they nod. On the outside they're saying "Yes, Finn, I understand". On the inside, they're already calling my parents to say "We're concerned that Finlay might be in denial about recent events". That's led to some fun dinner-table conversations over the last few weeks.

I bet you could've described that not-sad not-smile in one single word. You were so good like that. I'd spend what felt like ages trying to describe a concept to you, in the most round-about, complicated way ever, and you'd just snap your finger and bam, you had a word for it. You didn't even need to stop and think. We could be totally lost in a 1-v-1 or just walking down the street and there it was, a word I'd never heard of just falling out of your mouth like it belongs in normal conversation. I think I was always a bit jealous of that. I miss it.

I'm keeping an eye on Willow, just making sure she's ok. I'm not moving in on your girl or anything, don't worry! I wouldn't do that, you know I wouldn't. I just know how much you loved Will and I think it's my duty as your best friend to be there for her if she needs anything, if she needs to talk or whatever. I can barely string a sentence together at the moment, so I'm better at just listening. It works well, because she's better at talking. Much better at talking.

To be honest, I think Willow will be fine. She's got plenty of people around her. I don't mean that in a nasty way, just that she isn't lacking support. To be honest, I'm worried about Jess. I know she isn't your girlfriend and Willow is and that's why she needs lots of support, but this is hitting Jess really hard. I mean, it's hitting everyone really hard, but it's hard to explain. Jess seems lost. I'm sure her parents are there for her but at school, people just ignore her like before. She's seeing Mrs Linton too, so maybe that will help her.

I think that's how I'll cope with all of this; by helping everyone else. The more I do, the less I think about it. I can't explain it, I just hate thinking of you being there. Just being there in your room, dead and alone and gross. Not that you're gross, just the thought of it is gross. Like I said, I can't explain it. I just don't want to think about it, and the more I do to distract myself, the less I need to think about it. Does this make any sense? Sorry, Mrs Linton. I don't think I'm doing this right.

I don't know how to end the letter. Is it "yours sincerely" or "yours faithfully"? Does it matter if you're dead? I don't know. I can't figure this out. I can't figure any of this out, Alfie.

Finn.