Icarus

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The rest of the week was spent in mourning, and in a constant state of hiding my feelings. Everyone knew, and they asked me about it in every class. Why did she do it, they asked. Wasn't she your girlfriend? How did she do it? When did she do it? Other questions like that. I hated everyone, and was annoyed as fuck at everyone by the end of the day.
The funeral was Friday afternoon. It felt longer than it was. There was only two other kids there. There was a senior, and a kid who looked like he was in sixth grade. I met them. They were her best friends outside of school. They're a nice enough pair. They're funny too. I asked them about the playlist: they asked if I had listened to it. "No, not yet," I answered. "Why?" They asked if they could be with me when I did. I said sure, if they were allowed tomorrow. They said sure, if I was willing to go to the neighborhood they lived in. After I got back from the funeral, I asked my mom if I could go over to see some of her friends the next morning. She said yes, surprisingly. So that's what I'm going to do. Go over tomorrow, and listen to it with them.

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