A Threnody of Tears | Steve Harrington ✓

Prologue

may 29th, 1985

Eyes. They were everywhere. Scribbled in marker by the mirror, in the stalls by the lock, everywhere. They stand out against the grey tiles and beige grout, some quite comical in their expressionless glee, others quite persistent in their stare. Always observing, always judging, always keeping their vigil. No wonder Kaira always hated the school bathrooms so much, it was hard not to feel watched from the second Maggie walked into the bathrooms, a graduation cap in her hand, another balanced precariously on her head. 

The graduation celebrations for the Class of 85' were in full steam down the hallway in the auditorium. She could still hear the cries and shouts of people's loved ones as they celebrated their successes and their futures, Maggie did not have such luxury. Her Dad had barely lasted through the ceremony until both Kaira Fulmer, and Margaret Fulmer had been called before pushing out of the ceremony, oblivious to the equally piercing and sympathetic eyes following his path. After all, they were the same eyes that followed her back as she exited some forty minutes later, her sister's graduation cap hanging loosely from her hand. 

Now the sketched eyes followed her every movement, watching as Maggie caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror, her resemblance to her sister always shocked her, more than usual nowadays. The sisters used to be opposite sides of the same coin, identical yet still different in their own way, and now it was just her. 

Shaking her head, she automatically moved towards that stall, every memory of that fateful day singed into her memory. The door was locked now, of course, the school had long given up trying to clean up the blood, it had gotten everywhere, and a permanent reminder of what had happened had seeped into the grout for evermore.

Moving back away from the locked door, she moved towards the adjoining stall, sliding against the floor into the locked stall. A small shiver made its way down her spine and goosebumps pressed against her skin from the second she entered the stall. She wanted to think that it was her sister reaching out, feeling her presence but that was an unlikely theory.

Doing her best not to focus on the flecks of dried blood or the horrific events that had occurred mere centimetres before her only a couple of weeks ago, Maggie reached up and hung what would have been her sister's graduation cap on the bathroom hook. Someone had already been there before her, slipping a photo of Kaira between the toilet paper holder and the wall, a small heart sketched in pen on the tiles beside the image.  

It felt like it had been forever since she had last seen a picture of her sister, any remnants of the life Kaira had lived in the Fulmer's trailer had been wiped before Maggie had even gotten home that day. Peter Fulmer's way of coping always seemed to surround destroying any reminders of his grief and then wallowing endlessly instead of gradually adapting to the most recent loss in his family. It had been the same coping strategy when Kaira and Maggie's Mum had died, and it was the same now. 

Maggie had managed to save a couple of Kaira's belongings from her Dad's destructive path, saving some photos, documents, clothes and other miscellaneous belongings, storing them safely in an empty drawer in her room. She was just thankful that Kaira's graduation cap was completely spared after having been accidentally left in Maggie's room a couple of days prior because she knew almost too well that that would have been the first thing to land in the fireplace. 

The longer she lingered in the stall, the longer that question that would not leave her mind persisted. Why. Why had her sister done this? 

Kaira was happy. Maggie was sure of that, a million different memories of her sister flooding her mind. She had seen firsthand how happy her sister was, it was one of the reasons Maggie thought that the tears for her sister simply wouldn't fall. Kaira had been truly happy, yet the question still bugged her, her mind refusing to offer such respite as an answer, only prompting the recall of the same memory of that day every time. 

The memory of those few words that the school counsellor had whispered to her as the two of them watched the pale and bloody Kaira Fulmer be wheeled out of the bathroom en route to her final resting place.

The happiest ones are always hiding the most.