The church was filled with the tenebrous sound of sobs and whimpers. I could feel the stares just burrowing into me, giving me the idea that I didn’t belong here. But I knew I had to come, so I glued my eyes to the floor as I approached the closed casket. The hard wood surface was swamped in a beautiful flower arrangement, in the middle sat a picture, a picture of my best friend.
“I miss you. . .” Was all I could say.


I turned to face the pews, filled with people I didn’t know, People so different from me, people that didn’t dare to ask my name. But they all knew my name. They all knew why I had come; they all stared for the same reason. I was the one they would blame. I recognized her parents, her aunt, and other relatives I had met. All of their cheeks were stained with tears, their blood shot eyes peering up at me. But I couldn’t help but notice the absence of her uncle. Doing my best to ignore them, I made my way to the doors at the back of the church. I gasped in the cool autumn air with relief. The trees at the edge of the cemetery were so golden, hues of red and orange scattered among it, and the leaves were just beginning to fall. She would have loved to see them. As I headed for the forest, my thoughts wandered back to the people in the church. And I wondered if any of them knew the true reason why Jacey Burnet had killed herself.

January 8th, 2009

There was a thin blanket of snow on the ground, only the tips of the grass poked out. It was the amount of snow that got everyone excited, but it wasn’t quite enough to get us out of school. Outside on the sidewalk groups of twos and threes hurried to class, huddling together to try and escape the cold. I watched them from the quiet 3rd story bathroom. Alone, someplace that felt like home to me. No one ever used this bathroom, due to some stupid ghost story about someone dying in here the first year the academy was open. I discovered that it was a good place to get away from everything. During autumn I could watch the tree’s on the horizon change from green to gold, then into naked hands clawing for the sky, begging for a way out of this place just like the rest of us. In the spring the trees recover from the cold, as do the people, and move onto warmer days of their lives. But some winters can’t be recovered from. Some people have to live everyday in the cold. People like me.

The late bell for the last period rang, and I grabbed my bag and left my bathroom, my haven, until tomorrow.





January 9th, 2009

The harsh beeping of my alarm clock woke me up. Every morning the battle to get out of bed gets harder and harder. I shower, brush my teeth, put on my Westchester Catholic Day School uniform. I then check on my mom, who today was passed out on her bed, fully dressed, her arm in mid reach for the whiskey bottle on her nightstand. Then I left for the bus. The walk to my bus stop is one of the few things I look forward to everyday. It is early in the morning, only the birds are awake on my wooded street. The pine trees are puffy with snow, and birds hop from branch to branch, knocking clumps of snow off. It made a crunch sound on the ground beneath it as it hits. But before I know it, the silence of the wilderness is sliced by the cars passing on the street at the end of mine, then the roar of the approaching bus. Every day I swore it took me to my grave. But to my disappointment, I survive the school day. Then the bus brings me back home, someplace worse than my grave; the place digging it. On the bus I sit on a seat by myself, among the quiet kids. Today I got off the bus into the cold, and I stood outside -as usual- while everyone tried to squeeze into the lobby. Something caught my attention as it pulled up the drive; Jacey Barnet stepped out of her daddy’s silver jaguar, and one of her best friends immediately ran in her direction. But I saw something that I wasn’t supposed to see; an expression so empty pasted across Jacey’s comely face. But she quickly covers it with a smile as her friend approaches. Jacey is WCD’s “it” girl. Everyone loved her; she was the most beautiful girl in the whole school. What could possibly be wrong with her life? I rolled my eyes as the bell rang, and started the slow crawl through the crowd to first period. In amongst the voices of the throng I hear someone whisper my name.
“Lucy?” They said. “Lucy Noble?”
I didn’t turn around to look at them, I just listened.
“I wouldn’t be surprised if she did cut herself. I hear she’s got serious family issues. Did you ever hear about her dad?” The voice said.
I gasped for air and grab at my arm, and pulled my jacket sleeve down. I pushed out of the crowd, and bolted for the nearest stairwell.
This school is full of rumors. But I wouldn’t dare say that they are all lies.