The Suicide Effect | ✓

forty-seven

Today I went over to Becks' house to help her Mum clear out her room. She'd tried but she hadn't managed to finish - the room was cold and empty with just a few stacks of boxes. A couple of old teddies lay strewn around and her walls still had old pictures up.

"I couldn't bear to do anything with this all," her Mum said. I could tell that she was really close to crying - and I'd only just turned up.

"It's okay," I told her. "I'll do it."

She hugged me and nodded, leaving me alone in Becks room.

I breathed in hard, shivering. I'd been in here countless times - with and without Becks - but never in a situation like this. Those times, her room had always been so warm and comforting: now it just seemed plain creepy.

It was her walls that unnerved me the most. There were so many pictures of us cut out and smiling, arms interlinked. We were happy - at least, I was. I hadn't known then that my life would be wrecked in just a few months.

Fuck you, Becks.

Fuck you and your perfect prissy life that you decided to take away. You didn't just take it from yourself: you took it from us all.

It took me a long time to sort through her clothes. Becks' Mum said I could take whatever I wanted - she said at least they would be put to use then. Originally, I said that I wouldn't be able to take anything, but I got so mad at Becks that I took the pair of shoes that she never let me borrow.

It's not like I'm ever going to wear them. I just sort of wanted to make her angry.