The Suicide Effect | ✓

sixteen

Black black black. I hate it. But I wore it all the same.

I seriously considered not - you know, like wearing Becks' favourite colour instead. But I didn't because if Becks really was depressed when she jumped then she wouldn't want colour.

She should have told me.

She shouldn't have lied.

Everyone cried again today. I didn't stop. I swear that I emptied Niagara Falls during her cousin's little speech. I just couldn't stop crying because why why why did Becks feel like she had to do it?

She didn't have to. She didn't. 

I haven't stopped crying yet. I don't think I ever will.

I don't think I ever can.

In the end, I agreed to say a few words about Becks. Her mum begged and pleaded - I couldn't say no anymore. So up I went, knees knocking and eyes streaming.

"Becks was my best friend," I said. My lips were trembling. "She was an amazing girl. She loved life a lot and I'm not really sure why she did this." I paused, breaking off and gasping for air. "Becks was there for me when I really needed it - when no one else was.

"But I wasn't there for her."

And then I broke down completely, a blubbering mess in front of a church full of mourners. And I realised that although they were all hurting too, I was entirely alone.

I was the only one in that church who could be blamed for her death.