Oh, but it is.
“Today is the two-year anniversary,” I whispered. “I can’t.”
Although she tried to suppress it, I could see just the slightest tremble of her lip. Somewhere deep inside, she still felt.
“He chose to leave us, Samantha. We don’t mourn weakness. Now, get up. It’s a school day, and you don’t want to be late.”
* * *
With every step I took, I could feel the heaviness, like weights circling my ankles. I wanted to drop to the ground and sob, but that was a luxury I was not allowed. Weakness was not allowed. That mantra had followed Sullivan into his grave. He hadn’t been allowed to feel.Be a man, Sullivan. What’s wrong with you, Sullivan?Why couldn’t she see he was perfect as he was? Why couldn’t he? My sensitive big brother had suffered in silence, choosing the worst possible way to make his voice heard. He was only nineteen.
Sometimes, I wondered what it would be like to join him. How easy would it be to just cease to exist? No more pain. But then I’d be just like Sullivan – a memory hanging around Shannon’s neck – and I refused to do that to her. She was like a sister to me, and I would not place on her the burden Sullivan had placed on me.
Hundreds of unsuspecting students passed by as I opened my locker, leaning into it for support. What would they think if I died? No doubt they’d be scratching their heads and saying,Samantha who?Just like Sullivan, I’d die in obscurity, no one mourning my passing.
Sudden warmth spread as arms wrapped around me from behind. My knees nearly gave way from the force of the hug.
“You’re okay,” Shannon whispered in my ear. “I’m so sorry, Samantha. I forgot the date. I’m so sorry.”
Shannon’s strength was what I needed now. It would get me through the day, and then tomorrow, I’d wake up and move on… again. Slowly I turned and transferred some of the overwhelming weight onto her devoted shoulders. Thank god for Shannon. I often wondered if I’d been there for Sullivan at that exact moment when he’d made the decision to end his life, would he still be here today? Or would my intervention only have pushed his death forward to another day, another time? Could you really save someone determined to die?
Touching my fingers to the stone, I imagined Sully’s last moments. In my mind, I watched as he solemnly removed the necklace, carefully slipping it in the envelope, and quickly scribbled the note. Getting the necklace to me had been important to him in his final minutes. Maybe he knew the stone would be the one thing I would cling to when he was gone. Maybe it was a way to purge his guilty soul. After all, he was doing what he’d promised never to do.I won’t leave you Samantha. You’re all I have.And, of course, I’d repeated those lines right back to him.
We’d had a deal. He broke it.
I squeezed my eyes shut, trying – but failing – to block out the thoughts of his final minutes. What had he been thinking? How had he made his legs move across campus to post my letter? And why had the person who loved me most in the world climbed the stairs to the top of his dorm and jumped?
* * *
I hurried to third period, hoping to arrive before Keith in order to fix the protective goggles over my bloodshot, puffy eyes. But when I walked in the classroom, I saw he was already there, holding his hand over the open flame, a defiant smirk across his face, and as miserable as I felt, my suffering eased just a pinch in his presence. He had, after all, made me a cupcake.
“Ouch,” he yelped, yanking his hand away from the flame. “Sweet merciful crap, that’s hot.”
What did he expect? He was literally playing with fire. I shook my head at his antics, the smile typically reserved for him slow to take flight. Normally I adored Keith’s youthful exuberance, even envied his middle school mentality. He was so full of life, and I wished I could have stolen just a smidge of his energy and passed it on to Sully before he died. Maybe it could have saved him.
Blowing on his sizzling hand, Keith lifted his eyes to acknowledge me.
“Hey there, Sammy.”
I cringed. Sammy was even worse than Sam, and today was certainly not the day to assign me a new nickname.
“Samantha,” I snapped.
Unaccustomed to my harsh tone, Keith looked me up and down. “Okay, wow. Maybe this isn’t a good time to ask you why islands don’t float away. I mean, they’re surrounded by water.”
I held firm to my scowl, determined not to let Keith’s stupid questions cheer me up. Not today. My sour face seemed to wise him up.
He leaned in closer, the sparkle gone from his eyes. “You okay?”
Caring about my birthday was different than caring about me as a person. People who cared didn’t take the long way around the school parking lot to avoid running into their buddies with a nerdy girl by their side. I mean, if Keith couldn’t even make the trip across the lunch tables for me, then he certainly wouldn’t have my back if I really needed him.
“I’m fine,” I replied, looking back toward the door that I desperately wanted to escape through. But then what? Home? Her? My mother’s bullying was getting progressively worse, forcing me to spend the majority of my time at home barricaded in my room for safety. Spoons were the least of my problems. Bruises littered my arms and back, and my grandmother’s china, once considered an heirloom, was now just a worthless pile of broken shards.
Staying home, curled up in my bed, and sleeping my sadness away – that’s all I asked. But even that request had been denied. It wasn’t that my mother cared if I missed school; she just couldn’t allow me even the tiniest of victories. Not that mourning Sullivan’s death would have been a victory, but at least I wouldn’t be subjected to the lunch line on the very date my heart had been ripped clean out of my chest.
“You don’t look fine,” he said, interrupting my internal rant.
“Neither do you,” I replied. “Are those third degree burns on your hand?”
