Pieces (#WATTYS 2016)

The Blame, The Escape, The Start

Ayra POV

"Is that her?"

Such a statement that I got used too by the next morning. It was a Tuesday, and the weather man forecasted rain and a thunder storm. All I heard was a sign from Grace, the rise of her from the other side.

I'm not usually superstious, but after experincing the death of my own sister, I've basically turned into Luna from Harry Potter. I can say I can see dead people, ghosts. And they haunt me.

But the thing is, the only ghost I can't seem to find is the one of her, my sister. A few days ago today would've been an ordinary Tuesday, where we would order take-out and talk about school and stuff. But now I pay attention to nothing. I was a walking zombie with the ability to be a vegetable.

The next day is always worst, and walking through the halls of one of the most critizing high school ever, was worst then hell. 

Whispers came everywhere and everyone talked to each other like busy bees with honey sticking them together. And they were all on Grace's death. The death on the little corner house and the murderess, me.

"Hey, isn't that the killer who forced her sister to death so she can have her boyfriend?" someone whispered as I walked past them.

"No, no. I heard she let her sister stab herself while she watched and didn't bother to call police until she was dead," her friend whispered back. 

"Really? I thought-" I couldn't take it anymore. I blocked it out.

Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words can never hurt me. Yet.

The bell rang, and everyone hurried to their first period class. First period, for me would always forever be English, the only place in all of the school that I actually enjoyed, minus the quiet, calm library.

Right then, did the whispers start again and I blindly made my way to my seat, ignoring the hurling insults and possibly, the throwing of pencils and paper balls. And the funny thing was Ms. Hane let them do it. She pretended to scan the attendance, but I knew her eyes were flicking my way every so often. 

By the time class was done, I was almost attacked twice. Yelled out plenty. Smacked once. Insulted a bunch. And I still have confidence to ignore it all, focusing only on the Shakesphere, Ms.Hane was reading. Romeo and Juliet.

The story of love, rivals, and death. I hated every bit of the stupid piece.

Walking out of the classroom, the teacher sent me a sympathetic look and I looked away. I didn't do pity and I forgive that she just let the entire classroom bully me because of my sister's death. But I couldn't blame them, I felt like I was the cause of her death, too.

I just couldn't stand the tension, the drama that came after her death. It was just too much, at once. I felt like I wouldn't survive.

Later that day, after school Aunt Marie called and asked me to meet her at the local cafe, I politely declined before she demanded I show up. Unfortunately, I gave up and just submitted to her command. There was no point in arguing anyway.

Slipping out of the lonely house, I realized that I couldn't shoulder on my own and hugged myself. But then I released my own grip, I didn't deserve it. I deserved to behold bad luck, after all, I heard I killed my sister.

"Dear, you've been staring at the menu for a solid 5 minutes. Do you know what you want?" Aunt Marie asked softly.

I glanced at her kind face, "How can you be so nice when I killed my sister, your niece?" I cried. Tears leaking down my face.