2:56 :: h.s

huit

{ Trigger Warning }

13:52

"We will now be releasing the senior class to the gym for the assembly," the principal says through the speaker.

Everyone rises from their seats and mindless chatter roars throughout the halls.
Mrs. Bristow, my English teacher, locks the door behind her and a frown covers her face.

"Hey, Harry!" McKenna, Jessa's friend, calls behind me.

Ashley and Jessa follow behind her.
I stop off to the side to wait for them.

"We're meeting Stella and Ashlyn in the gym," McKenna says.

"Cool," I reply and when we walk into the gym, there is a projector aimed at one of the white walls, an older man and woman sitting in chairs off to the side, and the assistant principal talking to a teacher.

I follow the girls up to their friends and we sit down on the bleachers.
Each grade files in and more teachers arrive.

What is this about?

"Hey, guys," I lean over to the girls who are making a joke about some dude in a boy-band. They all turn to face me. "What is this about?"

They look about each other and shrug.
I do the same and look around.
The doors to the gym close and the ever-so-lovely principal walks in.
A few moments later someone, who I'm guessing is a guidance councilor, walks into the middle of the gym floor with a microphone and asks for everyone's attention.
The room goes silent.

"Hey, guys. So today, we are going to be telling you about a more serious topic. I know the seniors and, maybe some juniors, know where this is headed, but it's still an important subject."

"Shit," I hear Ashlyn say.

I glance over at her then direct my attention back to the man.

"One year ago today, one of our students decided to end her life. We have her parents here to discuss some important things with all of you, and to let you know how their daughter was, and how they dealt with everything. So please, give your undivided attention to Mr. and Ms. Jones."

Oh my God.

The parents walk out and thank him.
The projector turns on and I feel something twist in my stomach.
It's Rae.
But there is something off about her.

Her skin isn't porcelain, it's tan and her cheeks are flushed red.
I can see a healing cut on her hand.
Her hair is straight and she wears a dark blue shirt with thin orange and white stripes, the sleeves go to her elbows, the collar up higher than normal, and white high-waisted shorts .
A huge smile covers her face and a small amount of makeup is on her eyes.

She looks so different.

Clearly she looks different, she wasn't dead when the picture was taken.

The tension in the gym goes from joyous to melancholy in a matter of seconds.
Next to the picture is:

Julia Rae Jones
February 25, 1998 - March 8, 2015

Julia?

"Most of you know our daughter as Rae. She was a very bright and happy girl," her mother chokes on a sob and hands the microphone to her ex-husband.

"She was fucking terrible."

Mr. Jones rests his hand on the small of her back and takes a deep breath. "It's been a year without our daughter. We wanted to speak to all of you today in her memory and to help promote anti-bullying and to raise awareness of depression and suicide. As some of you know, our daughter left a suicide note that didn't explain why she wanted to end her life. It's still a mystery to us to this day, but as her parents, we know she was bullied from a young age."

Rae? Bullied?

"That is such bullshit," Stella cries. "You practically neglected her and she felt like she had to get attention from other people, you assholes," she says to Rae's parents, indirectly.

I look at her in confusion, "what?"

She looks at me with something that I believe is panic but I'm not so sure.
She swallows and wipes her tears.

"Everyone who knew Rae, loved her. I mean, yeah she got made fun of when she was in middle school but after that everyone stopped. Upperclassmen guys, and guys in our grade, were trying to get into her pants but she refused and told her parents. And then they blamed her for dressing like a slut when she wore jeans just about every damn day. She had morals and would never do anything with just anyone. I mean, she had her first kiss when she was a sophomore because she wanted it to mean something. She felt attacked by all of these guys and she just wanted help."

"Was she sexually harassed?" I'm prying and I need to stop.

She shakes her head quickly, "not physically. But people would say things and she'd get really self-conscious and uncomfortable. So, technically yes. She had a boyfriend for crying out loud! Why would she sleep with anyone that wasn't him?"

She had a boyfriend?

"Why do you think she killed herself?" I ask instead.

Stella takes a deep breath, "I wish I knew."

Then she begins sobbing.
She leans on Ashlyn's shoulder and Ashlyn wraps her arm around Stella.

These must be her friends.
Every single one of these girls knew Rae personally.
I don't think someone would be crying so hard if they didn't even know the person or were only acquainted with them.
Every time Jessa came over, she acted weird and would observe my house like something was wrong.

Something is wrong.
It isn't Rae's anymore.
It's mine and all of the memories she had with Rae are hidden away behind me and my mother's stuff.

Rae's dad is talking about bullying and how it can affect a person, even from a young age.
How can he stand up there and talk about this daughter without shedding a single tear?
His daughter killed herself because of him and his wife.
I look back over at her friends and I can't even imagine how they feel.
They don't even know she's still around.

"Rae was a lovely girl. She was always smiling, always happy, loved everyone. She cut her life short because something wasn't right in her mind. If you have a friend that seems depressed, talk to them, let them express their emotions so they don't keep them bottled up. Before you know it, the pressure will become too high and they'll take some form of action to let it go." Mr. Jones speaks then gives the microphone to his ex-wife.

"We'd like to conclude this talk with a video made by Rae's friend, Jessa Rickle, who is studying film at NYU this fall." She says then clicks on a video in the PowerPoint.

"When did you make that?" McKenna asks Jessa.

"A couple months ago, I didn't know why they wanted it. I couldn't say no though." She says softly.

Pictures of Rae at music festivals, friend's houses, homecoming and prom, of her as a kid, a middle schooler, a high schooler, on vacations, and so many more flash on and off the screen.
A couple videos play here and there, and all I can focus on is how she's breathing.
The way her skin is darker when the photos were taken in summer.
The way her eyes are full of joy instead of lifeless glass.
The way her cheeks are a deep shade of red as a young man kisses her cheek before a school dance.
One video catches me off guard.

She's wearing the same thing she's worn both times I've seen her.
Her hair is the same, her makeup is the same, her jeans are the same.
She's dancing in front of a couch that holds all of the girls next to me and she's laughing.
She sings passionately to some wanna-be pop-punk band and throws her hair around like a madwoman.
Stella joins her and so does Ashley.
Rae's cheeks are flushed and she's breathing heavily.
She looks around the room at each of her friends and smiles a sad smile.

"When was this video taken?" I ask.

"A year ago," all six say in unison.