What happens after Trey

Chapter 3

When I finally went inside I walked straight past my parents sitting at the table eating dinner in the miserable silence and retreated to the sanctuary of my room. I waited for sleep to come and when my eyes were finally engulfed in blackness, I wished nothing more than to wake up again. Tormenting images swam in front of my mind. A plastic plate overturned on a log. Normally kind eyes, flashing with anger. Those same beautiful eyes, cold and staring in a pale face.  A spidery white hand lying still against a background of sand. As I watched the hand began twitching, writing towards me and digging its nails into the sand to drag itself along. I started screaming and that's how I woke up, with the strangled noises escaping my throat and sweat dripping of my shaking body.

I refused to leave my room. Nobody could change my mind. Mum and Dad both tried to coax me out, telling me it wasn't right and Trey would have wanted me to move on. I lost it then. I screamed at them and threw things around my room. My eyes stung but again no tears would escape in my rage. My eyes were daggers directed at their hearts.

"Don't tell me that!" I screamed. "How do you know what Trey would want? If Trey didn't want me to be upset he wouldn't have run off! Why did he do that? Why'd he have to leave? I tried to get him to stop but he wouldn't listen!" I paused as I caught sight of a strange object sitting on my desk. It was bright red and consisted of a rough cylindrical base sprouting multiple twisted arms. Twisted arm... a white hand. I picked up the treasure and threw it as hard as I could at the wall, watching it break cleanly in half. I stared at the pieces furiously. "He didn't listen and now he's dead." I spat, not looking at my parents. I sat in the middle of my floor, surrounded by the evidence of my tantrum until I heard the click of the door closing. I could hear their muted voices downstairs and then another voice joined them, a familiar voice. The door opened once again and a pair of trashy Dunlop volleys walked purposefully across my carpet. Strong arms lifted me onto my bed and held me so I had no choice but to look into the eyes of their owner. He had his eyebrows raised and his deep chocolate eyes were fixed firmly on my face.

"I heard you threw a record tantrum in here," he said jokingly but I could tell he was disappointed in me. That tone sent a wave of shame right through me. "Want to tell me what it was about?" I bit my lip and told him, approximately, what I'd said. He sighed and gave me one of his 'you're an idiot' looks. "You're still blaming yourself for this?"

"No," I answered, not sure if it was a lie or not. "It's just I don't know why he would do it. Or why he would tell me?"

"Because he trusts you," Perry said simply. "Or maybe he wanted you to tell him it was a good idea. He would have known he'd never get that response out of me. We both know it wasn't of course and I'm guessing deep down he did too. He wanted assurance." Perry always knew exactly what to say to make me feel better. Generally, Trey had always been better with words but Perry just seemed to always know exactly what was bothering me. "I do have a bit of bad news though. The police were at my house again this morning, asking questions and stuff. They said they wanted to come over here but I said you weren't up for it. But they won't hold off forever. Anyway, they're saying it's a suicide."

"Do you believe them?" I asked.

"No, do you?" I couldn't answer. Ask me any other day and I would say Trey Rogers wouldn't ever contemplate suicide, but after what he'd told me at the barbeque and how he reacted to his dad, I wasn't so sure. "Come on Charlie, it's Trey we're talking about. It's not possible I'm telling you." He had that look that anyone with brains would take as a warning not to disagree.

"So what happens next?" I'd never known anyone who'd died, especially not under these circumstances.

"Well at the moment they're planning his funeral, he's going to be buried here since he loved it so much."