The shocking news spread across town like a disease. So too did my ‘flu’. We (the people of the party) were the talk of the town. There were rumours of me taking out my anger on the Khloё-and-Jackson-ordeal and killing an innocent bystander, but they were just rumours. Others just talked non stop about the gruesome way he had been killed, that is, the boy. Milton Graves, the corpse that lay upon the ground when we discovered him, had been literally mutilated, and to call it murder was like calling Hannibal a humanist; perhaps in his past life. Milton’s parents were devastated. Interview after interview would just be the beginning for the couple; soon there would be nationwide publicity and then the world. The FBI would be searching the nation for the murderer and for any related evidence. **** Sally’s urn was looking a little dull today. I took her out for a walk across the park green and then to Khloё’s where Jackson and his ‘goonies’ spent ‘spying’ on girls. You could clearly see their heads bobbing up and down in the bushes. What were they up to? I walked past the bush and then stopped. As slowly as I could, I turned around and I stared straight at the boys in the bush. “Cubby house meeting, I see?” “Shhhhh...” the boys grumbled. “Mhm, yes you’re right, too old for cubby houses, maybe a Star Wars Fan Club?” “Would you move already?” Jackson mumbled, shifting his weight from one leg to another. He bumped into Thomas and Dean, toppling them and him over. I laughed vociferously, “No...I get it...you’re spying on Zachary,” I muttered hilariously as I spotted Zach emerging from the front gate to his house. “Oy, Zach, these boys hiding in this bush are your secret Peeping Tom’s...” I took a glance at Thomas, “Oh, at least one of them is, the rest are a Peeping Jackson and Peeping Dean.” “Killed it,” Dean grumbled, coming out of the bush, followed by Thomas and Jackson. “We’re not gay; unlike Zach...who has never had a girlfriend!” “And you have Dean?” I glared. “Yeah...” “You sure about that?” “Positive...” “Well, what about you Thomas?” “Er, well, you see,” “I’ll take that as a no then,” Zachary interrupted. “No, it’s not a no, Zach,” I muttered. He gave me a bemused look. I winked. “He’s had a ‘special’ friend. His girlfriend was Dean and Dean’s girlfriend was Thomas!” Zachary burst into a fit of chuckles and Thomas gave Dean an angry, red faced stare. “You’re sister is their actual target, Zach,” I explained out loud. “They’ve been stalking her ever since last night. Why is that anyway, Jackson?” “None of your business,” Dean growled, pointing his fist at me. “Oh, it’s my business, alright! The person you’re stalking is my friend and I’d rather know that she is safe in her own front yard without getting stalked by three buff heads. So tell me, why are you pestering her?" “You wanna know why? She is a suspect to the murder of Milton Graves, that’s why!” Jackson blurted. “Wait, what? Khloё is a suspect, but that’s impossible! She was with me all night.” Well, not all night, I added in my head. “Well, apparently not. She told the police that she didn’t have an alibi,” Thomas mentioned smugly. “I guess because she is guilty!” Zach ran for Thomas, aiming his fist and administering a mighty blow to the smug face. I placed the urn full of Sally’s ashes on the ground carefully and I jogged towards the boys and stepped in between the fighting. Dean was pounding away down the path, running around the corner and out of sight. Pussy, I thought. “Stop, STOP!” I yelled. “This isn’t going to help anything you idiots. Hell, I don’t think fighting is going to solve the position Khloё is in right now.” I pushed Thomas and Zach away from each other. Thomas fell to the ground, cowering behind his hands. Luckily, the only thing bleeding on his face was his hideously deformed nose. “Luca was right, Zach, you are mentally challenged!” “Watch what you’re saying, Jackson, or I might punch you in the face!” I growled. “Ooooh, is the little girl going to give me her best shot,” “She can probably punch better than you and Thomas both put together.” “I’m going,” Jackson challenged. “I’m sick of watching p***ies. Thomas,” he looked at the sobbing boy on the ground. “Get up you pathetic loser. Look at you, grow some balls!” Thomas gave a slow sob, heaved himself up off the ground, sighed as he looked at Jackson and turned to leave. “By the way, Daisy, you were always a weirdo. Ever since Sally died, all you’ve been is a freak. Who carries an urn full of dead people ashes? That is gr-oss!” I glared as harshly as I could at him and felt stinging tears starting to push their way out of my eyes. I wasn’t going to allow myself to cry. It was definitely not going to happen! But it did, and before I knew it I was sobbing and Jackson was shaking his head at me and leaving the scene. Zach’s silhouette moved up next to me and I felt a strong arm around my shoulders. “Hey, don’t listen to the d***he bag. He makes life living hell, that’s why I asked you why you would ever like a d***he like him?!” “He...called me a freak. I liked him...so much and he just called me weird because...” I fell into another round of sobbing and Zach just cooed at me. “It’s ok, Daisy. He doesn’t understand. I was Sally’s friend too, and I cared about her. If I was in your position I’d be carrying around...well, you know already!” I let out a heaving sigh and wriggled out of his hold. “I’ll be fine,” was all I mumbled as I picked up the black-green urn full of my dead best ashes from the ground and continued on my way back home. “Are you sure?” He called as I just about turned the corner. “I’ve already lived through one major blow to my life. I’m sure this feeling will only last a few hours.” I called back, wiping tears with my free hand’s sleeve. The walk back to my house was long. Now all I had to do was get past the second blow to my not so fabulous life.

What I needed was a pick me up; something to make my day and bring a large smile to my continually grimacing face. Chocolate; well maybe it didn’t bring a smile to my face, but it sure made my stomach feel a little less twitchy and my heart a little less heartbroken. After getting through about two large blocks of chocolate, I pulled myself to my feet and headed for the bathroom. It was that time again. Chocolate was not going to stay in my stomach for much longer. I stuck my forefinger and middle finger down my throat, puking into the recently cleaned toilet. I pulled my head up. Was I really going to keep this going? Yes, was the answer my little voice told me, yes you are going to keep this going!

I washed my face and was out in a matter of minutes. My mother stood in the hallway, looking at me with strange worry pasted onto her beautiful face.

“Daisy, are you alright?”

“My flu is still giving me a little tickle in the stomach!” Exaggeration, Daisy, the little voice told me. Shut up voice, I sent back at it.

“Still sick, hmmm? Maybe I should take you to the hospital!”
I gave her a swift ok, but I knew that she would soon forget that she was meant to take me to the hospital. Well, at least for the next few days until she asked me again why, after two weeks, I still seemed to be holding onto the flu. It was going to be a long process of explaining and admitting, but I would get there in the end.
****

“Daisy,” Khloё muttered through the receiver. “Are you alright? You seem to be ill all the time! Are you sure you don’t need anything?”
I glared at the phone and mumbled, “I’m fine. You know it’s possible to have the flu for a full month. It’s only been two weeks. Get over it!”

“Ok, but if you need anything...”

“Yeah, I know, ‘call me’.”

“Good, I’ll see you tomorrow at the graduation. Five o’clock sharp!”

“Mmmmm,” I mumbled, clicking the end call button and returned the phone to its dock. She wasn’t going to leave me alone with this whole grad situation. In fact she probably wasn’t going to stop pestering me about my so-called illness; which I wasn’t planning on telling her about.

I spent the next twenty four hours in bed. My mother did not allow me to leave my bedroom because my sickness would ‘definitely’ spread across town. I wasn’t up for arguing so I raised the white flag and made my way to bed. She was over-protective, alright!
When the time came to get prepared for my graduation, I was too anxious to see Zach. I didn’t know why, but this little nudge in my head told me that I would smile seeing him. Or I would kill him, my head was messed up today because of my constant lack of nutrition (or rather digestion). I succumbed to my mother feeding me chicken soup that afternoon, but it would come right out that evening at the graduation after-party.

I was getting picked up by Khloё in her red Camaro SS. She parked on the driveway near the front lawn and honked her horn. I was applying the finishing touches to my mascara. I wanted that bold eye look, but it wasn’t going well because I felt the urge to run to the bathroom and puke. She beeped her horn again and I told mum to pass a message on to her saying ‘patience is a virtue, you knob’. Mum laughed and she left to pass on the message to Khloё. It gave me time to make a quick stop to the toilet to hurl. When I was finished I stepped out the front to see mum talking to Khloё. Khloё spotted me and waved ‘come on’, but I waved back and called, “I’ll be there in a sec, I need to go, er, get something!”
She shook her head and so I retreated to my bedroom. It was cluttered, slightly, and so it took me around a minute to locate Sally’s urn. Once I spotted it, I picked it up and double checked myself in the mirror. I was acceptable, but my face was just too white and I felt a little icky looking at such a pallid and unnatural face. Khloё didn’t think so.

“You look beautiful. And our graduation group won’t even notice you’re pallid face. Smile and it will all be fine!”

I nodded once and took a swift look at the urn I was holding. Oh Sally, I thought, this is it. I wish you could be here to hug me when we graduated! I passed on the urge to cry.

When we arrived at the school, the crowd made me feel nauseous. It was an amazingly large group of people, and with the group of us graduates, the immense feeling of claustrophobia had me at vomiting point; again.

After many kisses, hugs and hellos, the party moved into the great hall and were seated in a matter of minutes. We graduates were positioned behind the curtain awaiting the rising of the curtain and cue to be seated on the seats on stage. The audience outside quietened and the sound of a microphone being tapped echoed across the hall.

“Welcome parents, friends and families to Sacramento High’s Class of 2010 Graduation Ceremony. I would like to firstly thank you all for coming and hope you enjoy the graduation ceremony tonight. To begin, I would like to mention that camera’s, camcorders and flash photography is permitted...” I drowned Ms. Keysha out with some shuffling of my feet and a mumble to Khloё, who was seated not next to me, but down the row a bit.

“I’m nervous,” I muttered. She nodded and swallowed.

“So am I,” Linda, the girl next to me muttered.

“Shhh,” someone down the row whispered harshly. We all quietened down enough to hear Ms. Keysha still yapping away.

“...so to kick things off I’d like to begin with the students receiving their graduation certificates,” a round of applause, a pause and then, “Miranda Appleyard,” after about twenty two names my name was called out, “Daisy Rogers,” and I pulled myself out of the chair, leaving Sally’s urn under the chair instead of taking her with me. I shook hands with Ms. Keysha and stalked up to the front line of students waiting for the, well what I called it was the ‘hat throwing ceremony’. Khloё’s name was read out and she went up to collect the certificate, joining us soon after. I smiled at her, for the first proper time in a few weeks. I knew it was freedom. She reached behind Linda Robinson to hold my hand. Ms. Keysha finished off the names and that was our cue to throw our mortarboard caps in the air. My parents smiled and clapped all the way through. Khloё and I cried for about half an hour straight. Sally’s urn sat under the chair and was picked up by Ms. Keysha whom took into the store room and left it there, locking the room behind her as she left.

“Well find it,” Khloё growled at one of the boys from the ceremony. “And find it now, or she’s never going to stop crying you idiot!”
I was sobbing, hands full of tissues and I was being comforted by Zach who ran straight for me when he saw me break down on the stage in the middle of the ending ceremony when I noticed that the urn full of Sally’s ashes was gone. Ms. Keysha arrived, followed by the boy from the ceremony. She was holding the black-green urn and looked distressed.

“I’m so sorry, Daisy. I thought it was a vase for one of the teachers and so I put it in the storage room,” she handed me Sally’s ashes in the urn and I sobbed harder.

“Thank you,” I muttered, taking a deep breath and leaning my head against Khloё’s. My Sally was back with me and that was all that mattered right now.


We all arrived, happy and less mad, at the after party dinner. I was thinking of how to say no to any cuisine that was stuck under my nose. I didn’t know how long I could go without food, and how long I could go without telling Khloё about my bulimic periods. I decided that I would eat a little, to keep up my façade but that as soon as possible that I would be heading to the toilet to get rid of the food I swallowed. I was arm in arm with Khloё as we made our way to the seats and sat down. We were soon handed food and we ate (or rather, Khloё ate and I nibbled a bread stick).

“Aren’t you hungry, Daisy?” She asked.

“Not really, after that scare with Sally’s urn I kind of lost my appetite,” I lied maliciously. “And I don’t really feel like staying anyway, I just want to go home and sleep!”

“It’s only ten pm, Daisy,”
I gave her my ‘look’.

“Oh alright, I’m sorry. I guess I can’t blame you; it’s all this crap flu going around. You should go home and rest or you’ll just get yourself sicker!”

“Thanks,” I muttered. She stood up and picked up her purse, which she searched through looking for her keys. She pulled them out and smiled at me.

“Let’s go,”

“Are you driving me home? I was going to walk!” I asked.

“Of course, I won’t let you walk home and risk the chance of you getting mugged!”