Dear A**—Keegan,
I begin to read.
Remember your first day of fifth grade at Bater Elementary? I promised you I'd be your friend. Want to know why?
I knew what it was like to go without a friend. I knew what it was like to be left out and never asked to hang out with anyone. I never understood why it was like that for me, but I didn't wish that feeling on anyone, so I thought Mrs. Donahue had some insight that I didn't have. I think she thought if I could help someone like you, I wouldn't feel so left out anymore.
Do you know how seriously I took that request from Mrs. Donahue? I thought about it every day, Keegan. I never gave up on you. Never.
And you know what, not once, not even once did I say, "What about me?" Sure, my life was great at home, unlike yours, but I felt sad a lot. I felt alone a lot, and you were more concerned about me being your friend than you, being mine. Life was always about you. Every worry and concern were because of your stumbling steps. I tried to fix your pain; I stood there, day after day, trying to help you get better, and all you did was purposely make yourself worse.
I wish I never promised Mrs. Donahue that I'd be your friend because it is the biggest regret of my life. You broke my heart and left me without a friend in the world.
Thanks a lot,
August
I step up on the railing of the short wooden fence that borders the edge of the bridge. I lean forward and toss the note like I have done almost every night since Keegan passed. Except for tonight, the wind pushes it back, causing it to fall on the other side of the barricade.
I reach over, dangling my fingers, hoping to pinch it between my forefinger and middle finger, but I can't reach. I press up on my toes to get a little more wiggle room and seesaw my body over the side, feeling the liquid in my stomach press into my organs. It burns.
I finally make contact with the note, but my feet slide off the wet piece of plywood, and I slip forward, realizing I had more weight on the other side of the fence. A thud against my head completes an unwanted flip off the side of the bridge, and I splash into the frigid water.
My head throbs as I sink for a moment, but then I notice the water is glowing from the lights above, making everything look blue around me. It's beautiful. It's peaceful.
Maybe I'm dreaming because I didn't think my notes could survive underwater for long, but handwritten notes are floating around my body. They're all mine.
They're all made out to Keegan.
Except for one letter, it has words written in red. It says:
Please stop. Go on and live your life.
It must be in my head.
The sensation of floating relaxes me, so I shut out the blue glow, as well as the floating notes. I make it all go away so I can forget.
Is this why you did it, Keegan? To feel weightless and free? To be left without having to care for anyone. Even myself.
I get it now.
It's too hard to be alone with your horrible thoughts, but I still don't forgive you. You were a coward, and you did this on purpose.
A voice in my head repeats my words to Keegan, but it's me who should be listening to the meaning.
"You did this on purpose."
Yes, I did.
I need to understand … but I still don't.
Chapter Twenty-One
Chance
I've cometo learn I'm a glutton for punishment when it comes to decisions I make in life, but I'm also a firm believer in following my gut. It’s possible I see the pain in others more clearly or have a sixth sense. It's easy to pass by people on the street without taking a second look. It's easy to say, "Oh, I'm sure so-and-so are fine. They're just having a difficult day." If everyone just took an extra few minutes to take a second look or an extra-long glance, possibly ask a question or two, this world would be a better place. Sometimes people just need a hand to grab onto—it should be so simple.
Despite the firm, unforgiving speech August gave me, making it clear as day that I should leave her alone, I didn't think twice about following her out of the bar. I know she's wasted and not thinking straight, especially after what I witnessed last night. I can't understand why a girl who appears to be as smart as she is would be a repeat offender of the mistakes she's making night after night. I know the pain of a hangover, and it isn't something I would choose.
