Chapter 1
Original Short Story
By Ava Van Buren
PROLOGUE
There was something about her; Something about the way she watched people. The way her eyes curved when she batted her eyelashes. The sound of her voice when she sang around the campfire over the summer of 2017. Her boots were always covered with doodles from the sharpie markers she carried with her in the brown satchel that hung over her shoulder like an unerasable tattoo. Her jeans were covered with duct tape to cover up the holes that she couldn’t patch herself. She wore the same shirts every year, and never took off her beanie hat. Just like my red lipstick made me feel, it made her feel safe. She had the brightest smile in the world. Probably because she always smiled to assure everyone that everything was alright. But it wasn’t… due to her dad. He was never around, and he made her desperate for love. She had gotten her heart broken every time she searched for the hand that would hold hers forever. And I didn’t make it any better. Now It’s strange to see her. Without a doubt, she was always there but, not. Just waiting to be seen, noticed. And I didn’t notice her the way she wanted me to; And now she’s asleep. Forever.
START
Attention is the most craved thing in this world, so it’s normal to treat it like a necessity. That abominating little thing you could call your own, that you’re so close to tasting but can never reach. It’s an unreachable desire; a curse, a disease. And every teenager in my school has caught it. Yes, the famous Westerner High has the unspeakable infection. We, the students and faculty, have a motto: If it doesn’t have a name and no one ever speaks of it, no one can diagnose it. The virus flowing through our veins is wired into our system, shutting down every human source throughout the environment! And that, Westerner High, has drowned this whole bloody school. There is only one thing leading up to this unspeakable, triggering, deceptive lie within our brains and body and soul! The not-so-little part of us that killed off My best Friend, Sadie; My Sadie! You stole her name, her story, her virginity, her innocence, and her life! You replaced it all with lies and monsters and soul-sucking wires inside her system! Then when you think you couldn’t ruin her anymore, you put her in a coffin. A Coffin. Who puts a rainbow inside a life of complete darkness?
Sadie walked through the halls laughing, and it always seemed like she was having fun; that she enjoyed life as much as the average teenager. But I guess not. She was pretty and nice and always had straight A’s; she was the girl next door. You see, before I became the so-called “goth girl,” Sadie and I were best friends. She always went to my lame-ass birthday parties, I’d come to hers and we’d share popcorn and have the longest phone calls. I guess the lame-ass parties really got to her because she stopped coming to them; she stopped being my friend. It was nothing personal, I guess, but it happens. Sadie was always a sweet girl, but I guess things changed for her - changed for everyone that April. A beautiful soul has left the world. She left a bitter and sour phrase inside my mouth for my tongue to play around with, like fingers on a keyboard. She’s Dead. Dead. it’s still weird to say. Dead...Dead...DEAD. Sadie’s dead. I never thought of death before Sadie. I guess there’s a first time for everything. A first time for Goth Girl.
Principal Dean led me into his office for the first time, to talk about that terrible cold April day.
Everyone was in a fit due to Sadie’s suicide. If I knew anything about Sadie, it’s that she would want her death to be a private thing. This school turned it into anything but that. He sat down in his fat leather chair and looked me up and down before saying, “Miss. Cortez, I know better than anyone what you’re going through.” Wow! I thought as I put my head down knowing that nothing this bastard says will ever help me get past this. “My mother attempted suicide when I was eight. It was a painful and awful experience.”
“Did she do it?”
“Excuse me, Miss. Cortez?”
“Well, you said she attempted to kill herself. Did she survive?” I asked, shooting daggers into his eyes.
“Yes, she did. But that’s-”
“Then no, you don’t know what I am going through. You were an eight-year-old boy whose mother survived death. But I’m a 17-year-old girl, who lost her best friend, permanently. I don’t have the luck that you and your family had. My emotions are less stable and way more elevated than an eight-year-old boy’s.” I put my head back down in my lap. Stunned, he wrote some notes on a notepad and replied,
“I think you should take a little more time off from school. I’m writing you a pass to the guidance counselor’s office for the last hour of the day, but after that, you will stay home until you get out of this funk that this tragedy has cursed you with. Have a good rest of your day, Miss Cortez.” He waved me out, practically begging me to leave. You sure did a number on him, I could hear Sadie whisper into my ear. I turn my head to find the friend I missed but heard so clearly. The disappointment never left my face as I wallowed, flying blind, out into the halls filled with ignorant fools.
“Where you going?” A voice echoed through the now empty halls. I turn to find Sadie, ten feet from me looking as ordinarily simple as ever. She ran up to me, calling once again, “Where are you going?” It took a few more times before I knew exactly where we were. Or, should I say, When we were. We were in a flashback, a memory from many months before her death. At the school, of course. Realizing what I was supposed to say, I knew I had to smile and call back, “I just need a few minutes. I have a migraine and PE isn’t helping.” I joke, as she smiles halfheartedly. She gave me a look that screamed are you sure you’re okay? “I’m fine Sadie, it’s just a headache” I assure as I pivot, leaning down for a sip at the drinking fountain. She pats my back and makes me choke on the water. I laugh, sputtering water all over the place.
“Can you not?!” I shout, and a door from down the hall slams, indicating an angry teacher. This time she laughs. After she gets the amusement out of her chest, she walks past me and opens an unlocked locker that I knew for a fact wasn’t hers.. She shuffles through it and grabs a few things; putting most back. Lipstick, fine-tip markers, a handheld mirror, and Advil.
“Hold.” She orders me, handing the mirror to me. She adjusts it, moving my hand to where she can see her reflection. She then presses the purple marker into her light blonde hair and makes a streak of color swim down her thin curls. She throws the marker back into the unidentified locker, and grabs the coat sleeve hanging from the hanger inside the compartment. She opens the cap to the bright red lipstick, and wipes it on the sleeve, removing any germs that had rested on the red tip. Adjusting the mirror again, she perfectly places the bright pop of color on top of her lips. She rubs them together and puts the lipstick case on the lockers top shelf, as she did the markers; she then opens the Advil container and pours out half of the bottle into her hand and fails to close it back shut, putting it into the compartment. She handed me some Advil. My mouth must have gawked at her actions because she rolled her eyes and sighed.
“It’s for your migraine! Just take it!” I giggled and took the pills, leaning down at the fountain once again. This time when I looked back up my friend was once again long gone, and the halls were filled with a crowd of ignorance.
I went back home to find my mother standing stiffly in the corner of my room, holding one of my many stuffed animals close to her chest. I can tell that she’s upset because her thin blonde hair isn’t brushed yet; just shoved up into a small bun. “Mom?” She turns rapidly, startled by my appearance. She turns back around, wiping her tears away and sniffling.
“Hey, Hun, how was your day?” She asks with a forced smile.
“Probably better than yours, are you okay?” I ask, making my way to my bed. I throw my book bag down and kick off my shoes, ready to lie down.
“Lisa Ellsman found a letter that was addressed to you. It’s from Sadie,” she said softly. I took a deep breath and nodded my head. She handed me the letter, dark with age. I batted my eyelashes, blinking away the tears as I read her words she wanted to say.
My dearest Gia,
You’ve been many things in my life. My rock, my best friend, my hugs, my crush, and much more throughout the time we’ve known each other. We made connections that I never expected to make with anyone. This is an apology. An apology for leaving you after everything we’ve been through. I’m sorry to do this to you, my dear friend. I love you…
Yours only,
Sadie.
And then after dying by lack of logic and reason for those many months, I finally lived free. Goth girl lived on, even if the self I once knew before hadn’t.
