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00: Devin

00: Devin

            When Devin walked the halls each weekday, she possessed a power that everyone hoped that they, someday, would be able to attain. It was in the look behind her green eyes, the same ones which would light up when she found something funny, tear up when she was becoming sad, and crinkle at the corners when she was doting on the freshman. Her eyes were so expressive, everyone says, now understanding that they were the windows to her soul.

            Her poor corrupted soul which manifested on a part in each of us. The same soul that affected everyone in some way. Whether you liked Devin Hill or not, you listened when she spoke, you laughed when she did, and you were always watching her.

            How she managed to get a hold of such power so quickly, so easily, was the question on everyone’s lips. The girls wanted to be her best friend, hoping that Devin would entrust them enough with her darkest secrets. The boys wanted to either be with her, or be protecting her from all of the bad things the world had to offer. Everyone wanted to protect Devin from the dangerous world; she just wouldn’t have coped, it was too big for her; it would have eaten her up and swallowed her whole.

            Everyone had been protecting Devin from danger. In reality, Devin should have been protected from herself.

            I could count on two hands, and three extra fingers, how many times I had spoken to Devin personally. Thirteen. It was nothing but a speck of dust on Devin’s radar, especially when Devin spoke to so many people daily, so being asked for a pen, or to pass along a math textbook was nothing more than putting on her shoes every day.

            Between the two of us, we came from two different worlds, and we had very little similarities. No one was like Devin, and personally, I think that is the worst type of loneliness. Even if she smiled each day, it didn’t matter. She could smile a million fake smiles, surrounded by people that were supposed to be her friends, but feel like burying her head under the sand as a chance to escape reality.

            The worst type of loneliness is when it hits you deep in your chest, and even though you’re surrounded by numerous amounts of people, not one of those actually understand you as a person.

            Being on the top of the social ladder came with a sick type of fascination. Devin came from a world of self-deprivation. She’d never be good enough in her own eyes, and each day was about getting better and better, until finally, there was no better that she could get to without causing herself harm, and other people became her stepping stones. High school was merely an experience, never a life.

            It was shocking, how I understood Devin Hill like a better person now. Out of all times, I felt like I could connect with her better now that she isn’t here. When you read someone’s diary, take a walk in their shoes, and finally see life in their eyes, everything becomes different.

            Devin Hill was different, and maybe everyone realised that way too late.

                        ◦  ▲  ◦  ▲  ◦

            “Seventeen year old, Devin Hill, who was reported missing two weeks ago, has been uncovered, dead, in Kappa Delta’s Fraternity House last night. The Police so far have released that it looks to be a murder, and an investigation will be underway immediately. Devin Hill had been reported missing by her family only two weeks ago, after leaving to go to a party with her college boyfriend, Grant Thomas, who is currently, the lead suspect. The Police are led to believe that the body had been there for at least 48 hours before it was uncovered. The Fraternity House has been closed and deemed as a crime scene. Sources close to the family say that they are absolutely distraught and will do their best to make sure that justice is given to their daughter.”

                        ◦  ▲  ◦  ▲  ◦

            “It’s such a shame,” Dad says.

            I have only been to a funeral once before this, and I had barely been seven years old. Now it’s all fresh, being eighteen and attending the funeral for a girl in my grade. The same girl who used to sit two spaces to the left and an entire row in front of me in English. It’s scary how someone can be so close, look alright, and the next they’re just gone.

            With no warning, no goodbye, no reasoning. They’ve just gone, and what’s even harder to understand that there will never come a day when they’ll ever just come back.

            Mom agrees from the passenger seat. She’s already been crying. It’s so close to us. Mom personally knows the Hill’s. “Devin just deserves a beautiful and wonderful service.” She says.

            “And respectful, too,” Dad finishes. “I hope the press stay away. Give the family the privacy that they need and deserve.”

            Mom hums. Dad clicks his tongue against the roof of his mouth. Byron looks at me, and I offer a smile.

            The movements are all so rehearsed, and so fake. I just want to get out of the car, to breathe some fresh air. The heaters are on at their fullest, because Byron gets cold easily. It feels disrespectful to ask them to turn it down. I feel like it’s wrong to ask for anything, because Devin can no longer ask to be alive.

            There are a couple reporters outside, but security is already sorting that out. Dad parks the old Honda, and I get out quickly. Byron immediately spots some of his friends, and makes his way over. I begin walking with my parents either side of me.

            Charlie catches my eye from where he is standing with Skylar and Fred. I drop my eyes to the ground, entering the church. Devin wasn’t exactly religious, but this is the church her parents attend every Sunday.

            We settle for a pew in the middle, and I flick through the program. I suppose her parents have tried to personalise the service as much as they possibly can, whilst still keeping it traditional and respectful. I have never known Devin on any personal level.

            “I think I’ll just go say a quick hello to Fonts,” Mom says, glancing back over her shoulder to see Devin’s parents, Fontaine (Fonts for short) and Kelvin, entering the church, along with her older brother and younger sister, Derrick and Danielle.

            “Do you think it’s a good time now, Trace?” Dad responds softly, setting his hand on her arm and guiding her back down onto her seat.

            The Hill’s walk past our pew and take their seats right at the front. Mom sighs, knowing that Dad is right. “I just feel like Fonts has been avoiding me, you know. We’re supposed to be best friends. I’ve known her since we were in diapers.”

            “Tracey,” Dad grabs her hand in both of his. “This is a real tough time for Fonts right now. Just give her some space and time, all right?”

            Mom nods her head, the church doors open. The casket is carried in by all six of Devin’s uncles. The music starts. Everyone stands.

            I connect eyes with Charlie once again.

[a/n]: camp nano starts tomorrow and i'm kind of excited and nervous for it too. to tide you guys over and give myself a bit of leway, i'm just posting the prologue for now. i doubt i'll complete it but i've got a solid 20k done already and i haven't even gotten to chapter nine. wish anyone who's doing camp nano the best of luck, and i hope you guys are interested enough in this idea to follow it through and actively get involved with like, trying to figure out who killed Devin.