Forlot: My Friend is a Human - Book Ten

Chapter Three

WENDY'S P.O.V.

It was a brand new day. An opportunity when you can do what you need or want to do. A day to try again and hope that it turns out for the better.

But not me.

I am usually the kind of person who uses my time wisely. Every second that ticked by, you can guarantee that I will be doing something constructive, whether it be writing a fanfiction or helping my mother cook or clean.

But not today.

This was not a regular and good day. This day came right after Kara's death. Even though that the sky was a pretty purple and not dark, it seemed dark to me, and that was because my heart was darkened to an ugly gray.

I woke up from my slumber. I somehow managed to get some sleep, but not enough. But can you blame me? I found out that a dear friend of mine died. What was worse was the fact that she did it herself. I knew that something was off with her, but...I never knew that she would do something tragic like that. It was not the Kara whom I came to know and love.

I was lying in bed and yawned. I did not feel tired, however, I knew that my body was. When I came to, I could feel my muscles aching with pain. I let out a groan and slowly rolled onto my side. I did not want to get up. I did not desire to get out of my bed and tackle the day. Thank gosh that there was no school that day.

I soon heard the creaks of the floorboards outside of my room and realized that it was only my mom. Who else could it have been? My mom and I are the only people who live in my house.

Not for long.

Mom walked into my room. "Wendy?" she said my name as she sat on the edge of my bed. "I was worried about you. Breakfast is ready, and you always come down way before I am finish."

I did not know how to respond and covered my face with my hands. Part of me wanted her to go away and leave me be. The other part of me desired her company and comfort. Now that Kara was gone, I felt alone in the world again.

She gently fiddled with my hair. "I made you a special breakfast to cheer you up. Your favorite. Peanut butter pancakes with pickles on the side."

My stomach grumbled at the word 'pickles.' Pickles are one of my favorite foods. In my opinion, they taste better than chocolate!

See? I told you that I am weird.

"Wendy? Why are you wearing your regular clothes? Did you not change into your nightdress last night?"

I shook my head and slowly raised it to look at her. "I was too tired to change clothes. Until..." I could not help it. I teared up. "...why did she do what she did? Did she not know that I cared about her?"

"I am sure that she did. Some people..." She hesitated before continuing. "...some go through depression and believe that the world would be better off without them. But it is not true. Their deaths affect their families, friends, and many others. It is also a sin that cannot be taken back."

I sniffed and wiped my nose. "Why...why would she think that I would not want her? And why did she have depression?"

Mom pulled me close to her. "Depression destroys people and their lives, even the ones whom you think that would never have it. Depression can change a happy person in less than a second." She snapped her fingers. "And to answer your second question, I do not know. I do not know her as well as you or her parents. I am not her."

I shed a tear and quickly wiped it away. "...it is my fault."

"Aw, Wendy. Do not start blaming yourself."

"It is. I was sure that there was something wrong with her, but brushed it off as something minor. What I...what I should have done..."

"Did you tell me?"

"...yes. I told you that she was acting out of character."

"Then you did your part. You told a grownup, which was me, and you can only do so much. It is up to the person who has the depression to take it upon himself or herself to turn his or her life around. You cannot blame yourself for trying."

I had my head resting on her chest and sniffed again. I said something that my mother thankfully did not overhear.

"What I want to know is why she did."

Soon, we were downstairs and in the kitchen. Mom and I were sitting at the table and eating. I had my weird breakfast, and Mom had a bowl of oatmeal.

You are probably wondering where my dad is. Well, four months ago, my parents got a divorce. Their marriage was not working out - they did not love each other anymore - and Dad left us. The last thing that he said before he left was that he never wanted to see me or Mom again.

That had to hurt. And it did.

My mom keeps saying that she is alright, and recently, she has been dating a new guy. From what I heard from her, this man truly loved her and treated her like a queen. She also added that he loved children.

I did not mind him. If Mom was happy, then I was too.

The doorbell rang.

"I will get it," Mom said as she got up and left the kitchen. She soon returned, but was not alone.

There was a man standing next to her and a girl who was around my age.

"Wendy, this is my boyfriend Tri Bacon," Mom introduced. "And this is his daughter, Trisha. They will be staying with us."