Laplace's Demon

-01-

What went wrong? I keep asking myself again and again each day. What had happened that made it this way? What did I do wrong? What else could I have done?

Nothing.

The answer is nothing.

I couldn't prevent her death even if I wanted to. I barely remembered what she had looked like at that time. But why do I feel such guilt for what she had done to herself? 

As a kid, my parents had always supported me through my entire life. I lived in a universe where nothing could bother me, I could get through any hardship eventually with my friends and family by my side.

How did she feel when she was left alone? How must it feel to have no one near you? I never once closed my eyes to think. I can't imagine, living knowing there's no one to trust, nobody to lean on.

I held my diploma in front of me, maybe if I was there for her, she would be here now, graduating from high school like everyone was. The thing that really made me mad was that we were friends at one point, as time past we got separated into our own friend groups. It wasn't until senior year where she became alone at school, the quiet and odd kid. The thought of approaching her never crossed my mind, I convinced myself that things just had to happen, that she probably enjoyed being by herself. 

I strolled through the empty school corridor, my footsteps echoing and amplifying through the hall. I came to a halt in front of a memorial altar at the end of the hallway, her framed picture hung on the wall, her wavy brown hair, her dark hazel eyes and her petite smile. She looked a couple of years younger, when she was active and happy. Without the depressions and loneliness, without her family issues or neglection, she was herself back then, when we were still friends.

Under the frame was a marble tile with deep black carvings, 

'ELIZABETH SOFIA HANKINSON

2002-2020'

On the table were vases or bouquets of almost withered flowers, letters and notes from teachers and random students, teddy bears and snacks. I glanced across the table ignoring the gifts and picked up an envelope in the corner of the table, a cold air blew across my face as I flipped it open, emptying the contents onto my palm.

Pictures of events and celebration at school for the past years flashed memories into my mind, I stopped at one specific picture and stared at it for a moment. I couldn't recognise myself in the picture, I was probably around two years youngers, in front of the banner at prom. 

I was huddling in a group of four, our arms around another, from the left was a boy with a navy suit and silky pulled back purple hair, he had blue eyes that looked cyan under the dim party lights, I recognised him immediately as my best friend, Alex. 

Beside him was me with my dad's old suit and tie, the piece of cloth draped over my shoulders baggily, my hair was shorter, with shaved sides and messy blond hair. My dark brown eyes had a hint of a red dot in the middle, I smirked at my quirky smile and dragged down tie, I really hadn't changed at all.

To my left was Eliza, her hair tied into two braids, she had a black off-shoulders dress, the end of the dress hung until her knees, below was another layer of black stockings and sneakers. I don't think she wore any makeup except for her pink tinted lips. 

At the right was Allison, my Dad's side cousin, we grew up together, living close to each other, she moved away last year when her Mom had a job offer all the way from Manchester. She had the same light blonde hair as mine, her bob cut was curled at the end. She wore a tight purple dress with matching heels, her braces showing as she smiled brightly.

I flipped to the back of the photo, 'Alex, Jaxon, Eliza, Alli. PROM 2018 XOXO' was written in black ink with our signatures beside our names. With a split second decision, I looked around carefully, slipping the photo into the pocket of my sweater. I then lifted my head to look at the large frame of Eliza, how this managed to happen, I did not know.

"Eliza," I breathed a huff of cold smoke through my lips, my voice sounded like a shiver, "I'm sorry I let this happen."

I rubbed my hands against each other to warm them, the tips of my fingers had turned blue. I tried placing them into my pockets but retracted when I felt the corner of the photo cut my skin. I watched as the blood slowly embedded on my finger, forming a ball of red liquid. It stung as if a knife had sliced open my skin, yet I watched as the blood slipped from the top of my index finger, dripping onto the table.

I could almost hear the quiet sound of the drop of blood as it splat across the table, my vision doubled abruptly and I took a few step back in shock. The last thing I saw was the sight of the school ceiling as my eyes rolled to the back of my head.

What went wrong?  The question surfaced to the back of my head once again.

Everything. 

My head throbbed as my body felt as if it was sinking, her name sunk into my mind, imprinted like the carvings on that marble tile, the carving on her tombstone. I couldn't open my mouth, I didn't say anything, but my mind was clear, I would do anything to get you back.