There was a quiet awe that preceded him, and even though Luke Dalton thought that maybe it was out of respect, he couldn't help but feel like it blared too loudly. A thousand eyes watched every step he took, and as if by an unseen force they parted down the middle to stand idly by at the sides to watch. They were kids, he knew it was in their nature to be morbidly curious like that, so he tried not to let it bother him as he followed behind the principal. Even she was silent, and there wasn't a living soul that knew what they could say to him, so everything was quiet.
The hallways twisted on, a never ending agony as his eyes darted around, wondering when they would come to the end. Maybe it wasn't so bad that it went on and on, and he thought again about how he really didn't want to do this. He didn't have to, he knew that, they'd offered to clean the locker out for him, but it was his job. Jerry had been his son, and if anyone should pick through the few things he'd left behind then it should've been him. Luke Dalton kept his head up proud, ignoring the whispers that started up and trailed behind him, whispers about the dead kid and his bereaved father.
By now the news of Jerry's suicide had spread throughout the school, and there had been an outcry of support from his friends and classmates. It didn't make it any easier to know what he was so well loved. He'd had so much going for him, why would he do this? For a second it threatened to become overwhelming again, and Luke Dalton had to put it out of his mind so that he could do what he'd been planning. The memory of finding his son like that threatened to play over in his head, like it did every other waking moment, but for once he was able to take a deep breath and put it away.
He didn't need to be told when they'd arrived at Jerry's locker, because from the moment he could see it down the hall he knew. It was surrounded with flowers and pictures and memorials—all beautiful things from people who hadn't loved him enough to make him stay. The principal mumbled some halfhearted words as she put in the combination and undid the lock, and then she too left so that he was alone with all that remained. The kids that lingered nearby did their best to look occupied as they watched, and Luke Dalton continued to pretend like he couldn't feel their stares as he picked up the first card and read it.
It read like it had come from one of Jerry's friends on the football team, but it seemed forced and insincere and he hated it. With a quick rip he tore it in half and threw it on the ground, reaching for the next one. When it didn't prove to be any better it met the same fate. It went on like that as he cut his way through the memorial, and pretty soon he just started grabbing it up into his arms and throwing it in the trash. More whispers rose up from the kids in the halls, but then the bell rang and they disappeared off to their classes, leaving Luke Dalton to finish destroying what they had created.
It wasn't long until all that was left was the picture taped to the locker. He took it down now, studying the smiling face of his dead son and wondering how this could've happened. The image printed on paper was a lie, so distanced from what the reality had been, and he wanted to tear it apart too. But he couldn't, because the happy expression of his son was so much better than the horrifying sight he had of him that wanted so badly to play over in his mind anyway. Maybe it was a lie, but it was a beautiful lie, and he needed a little comfort for once. So instead he folded it up and tucked it away in his pocket, keeping it safe there.
It was the only way he could keep him safe now.
He opened up the locker and looked at different pictures, ones that Jerry had put up. These continued the happy charade, but he gave them his attention anyway as he peeled them away and flipped through them. Some were of his friends, his teammates, but most of them were with another boy. Jerry looked the happiest in them, and Luke Dalton thought he might've seen the boy around before. Seeing these photos brought a smile to his own face, and for a second it didn't hurt as bad. Then he put them in his pocket too so he could focus on the rest. With hesitant fingers he thumbed through a textbook, glancing at the notes pressed between the pages.
YOU ARE READING
God & Sinner
Spiritual"Don't you know that all things must bear the winter? To everything there is a season. There is no dawn before the dark, no life without death, no love without loss. These beautiful things are only made possible by that which is diseased and ugly." ...
