A Death to Remember

Chapter 3: Two Sides of a Coin

It was literature period and the moment the Mr. Sanchez opened the door he collected our homework right away.

"Hey Chris! Did you do your homework?" Peter looked at me pouting.

"For those who didn't do their homework, you can stand at the back and raise both of your arms. I still hope that will be enough to humiliate you." He caught a glimpse of my unbothered face. "Or maybe not." he sighed. "Anyway, go stand there you punks. I don't have time for you."

I stood up and walked towards the back. Peter nodded repeatedly. "Right, you didn't. Glad you'll come with me."

I glanced at Jill sitting stiffly at her seat as she stares at her paper.
She did make one. I was worried it will be hard for her. Did she simply write about her times with me and Peter? I mean. That's the only thing that she can write. If not, then it would mean that she had her memories back.

She folded her paper and passed it to the front.

"Okay. I'll read your poems now." Mr. Sanchez announced, teasing the students.

Everyone complained at the same time filling the room with harmonized groans and murmurs.

But Jill seemed to be surprisingly calm about this. Was I just worried for no reason?

Mr. Sanchez read a few poems and branded it anonymous but the embarrass expressions of the owners gave them away.

He let out a satisfied snicker and held on to the next poem.

A split second and his grin turned into a puzzled look.

He stared at the paper, opened his mouth and closed it. He pursed his lips seemingly trying to find the words but obviously failed.

"Ugh... this." Finally, words came out of his mouth.

"I'm sorry but I don't catch the humor in this... Miss Bang." He said looking at Jill while waving the empty paper in the air.

Everyone turned to look at Jill interested about her peculiar action.

Jill clenched her fists and looked at her desk with a blank face "I lost my poem, Sir. I don't have it with me."

Mr. Sanchez flicked his eyebrows with dissatisfaction. "You lost it?"

Jill nodded still not showing any expression.

Mr. Sanchez sighed, obviously losing his short patience. "Then why did you even submit this? Are you making fun o-"

His grilling was interrupted by Jill who quickly stood up from her seat. "Sorry sir, I'll just accompany them at the back"

She turned and walked quickly towards us leaving Mr. Sanchez speechless. Eyes on the ground, I can see the uneasiness in her expressionless face.

All eyes followed her until she reached the back of the room. Jill was the center of attention until Mr. Sanchez broke the silence making everyone look infront.

"So! Yes. Okay. Do what you want Miss Bang." he grunted while rolling his eyes "Shall I read the next one?" he flicked through the papers pick a poem for him to read.

Everyone's attention shifted towards him but it didn't erase my concern towards Jill at all. What was that all about?

I was about to ask her that when she suddenly spoke seemingly reading my mind.

"I wasn't trying to be funny. I did lose the poem. It was seven years already and I still haven't found it." she mumbled, eyes still on the ground.

Jill’s words hit me.

Mr. Sanchez did tell us to make a poem about our childhood, our past.

It's a pretty normal thing for the majority but not for Jill who can't remember anything more than half of the life that she's living until now. Thinking alone would mean agony.

"Ugh... Don't worry Jill. That's fine. We won't bug you about it." Peter asserted, comforting Jill.

He then glared at me and slapped my arms.

"Ah! What was that for?!" I complained with a hardly controlled voice to avoid the unnecessary
attention from the other kids.

"What was that for?-my ass. You were looking at her so intensely I was scared that she might melt into a pudding. It's an "answer-my-question-cause-I'm-freaking-curious-about-why'd-you-did-that look" he
blurted everything with his speedy tongue.

I slapped him back. He flinched. "That's too long. Zip your chatty mouth will you?"

I looked at Jill. Her face seemed unfazed.

Amnesia. I knew too well how much she suffered from it all these years. I witnessed how much she was torn about finding her memories and staying ignorant because of fear.

All of these yet there are times that I feel a dubious thing towards this, to be envious of her not remembering anything. Just sometimes, I can't help not to.

Cause if Jill is the heads then I am the tail. Two faces of a coin. Opposites parallel with each other, completing the existence of the coin itself.