The Broken Smile The Brightest

Chapter 2

Nothing happened after that. I mean, of course I continued crying, and the guidance counselors tried to calm me down, but there was an absolute nothingness.
Like that feeling you get when you're wearing layers and layers of jackets, and you have a snowball fight with your gloved hands. Eventually, they go numb. You know it should burn, but it doesn't. Yeah, well that's what this felt like. Just imagine that, extreme sobbing, and an empty hole in your chest.
Yup, that's just what's happening.
Obviously, I understood should feel pain, sadness, guilt. But I couldn't.
It's not like I block it out or anything, I just physically can't feel anything.
I'm still leaning against the wall, sobbing, when the video starts to play again. Each word Jade said felt magnified by a thousand from the first viewing; each tear sliding down her face seemed to bring more pain.
Of course the counselor shuts it off, and makes me sit. Fuck no, I think, glancing up at her.
The talk.
By the count of me, Brady, Ana, and Dani, at least 16 students had committed suicide. Not too high, right? Wrong. It's only November. 3 months into the school year.
Brady had lost a about a year ago, something he didn't often talk about. But the one time he did talk about it, he included mention of the talk.
According to him, it was an interview of sorts, but more...risky.
The counselors asked questions; how you felt, how much you sleep, how much you eat. You answered truthfully.
Now, here's the thing about us and truth. We don't do honest easy. Lies are an easy way out. They've always been. So we all knew Brady had lied on his.
With the results given, they would determine what degree of 'okay' each person was.
With those results, they determined weather to 'recommend' that you see a doctor.
What recommended basically means is that the parents send their kids away to a boarding school. I've been told that the parents know little about the school, but I don't know if it's true. If it is, I guess it gives some redeeming to the parents, because it's a truly horrid place.
Whatever each student brings is checked for anything that could be considered dangerous. Anything. If you skip even one meal, you have an IV. Each attendee goes for a different amount of time. I've heard kids going in for 6 years.
Well if I fuck up on this evaluation, it might as well be me.
"So, Skye, how have you been dealing with the loss?" She asked me, in the calm voice that counselors always seemed to develop.
Think. Think. I told myself. Should I seem super sad, like I knew I should feel? Or still in shock?
"J-jade was m-my best friend" I whispered, shock seemed to be the better choice. She couldn't say I was depressed.
The woman, Mrs.Johnson, nodded, giving me a sympathetic look.
"And why do you think she did this?" She asked me. I hated the pitying look in her eyes. I hated having to answer her stupid questions; hated letting her play with me like a mouse.
"I d-don't know" I whimpered "and th-that's what h-hurts t-the m-most" I managed, in a chocked up voice.
She nodded, maybe that was the end.
"I have one final question" she said, slowly; carefully.
Or maybe it's not.
"Would you like to attend Morganson? There is a voluntary entry, if you'd like to take it." She said, and I knew this was still part of the examination. Saying no too desperately would mean going. Saying yes would mean going.
"N-no" I muttered "I-I'm fine here" I said, which was a lie. A simple, white lie.
Mrs. Johnson seemed to be satisfied, as she twisted the silver ring on her left hand. "Very well," she said, slowly "Back to class." she said, standing, to open the door.
As I walked away, I heard her say a simple phrase, that somehow chilled me to the bone.
"And thank you, for the truth"