Sisters [book one]

Chapter Twenty-Three

Chapter Twenty-Three

I cross the deserted street and I stand in front of a rusted, iron gate. It creaks open and I step inside.

My shoes touch the soft grass many people, like me, have crossed. I duck under the branches of an oak tree; the eerie silence of the graveyard is peaceful, tranquil. Sunlight shines through the leaves and gaps between the trees.

I walk amongst the tombstones. Some have flowers in front of them, some have grime and moss growing, some are lifting out of the ground, some are shiny and new. I never thought I would be able to come back but here I am; I've made it this far.

My hands shake inside my coat pockets. I scan the names' on the graves. I wonder what kind of life these people had and what their relations and descendants are doing now, so long after their deaths.

A certain grave takes my breath away with the wind. Someone has come along and planted flowers. Shoots and buds poke out of the soil. The gravestone is rounded. I walk around it and my fingers follow the curve across the top.

"Jessica," I whisper. "Can you hear me, Jessica?" I bow my head and close my eyes. "I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to steal him away from you, I didn't mean to tip you over the edge. I was stupid, naïve. So much has happened since you've been gone. I've learnt my lesson; I'm a better person."

A figure comes to stand beside me and my heart leaps in my chest. I look up; it's Austin.

We exchange silent words. We both know that neither of us are here by chance. It's Jessica's one year anniversary of her death but neither of us have flowers.

"I should go," I say, but Austin's hand latches onto my arm.

"Stay," he says, so I stay put.

We both stare at her grave. I imagine her six feet under, inside a wooden box. A year on, I can't imagine what she looks like.

"I'm so embarrassed," I say.

Austin looks up.

"About the benefit," I say. "It was a disaster, I'm so embarrassed."

Austin doesn't protest. "Why did you go?" he says.

"For closure," I say, "for acceptance, for a fresh start, something. I thought enough time had passed for everyone to forgive me. I was there to support the prevention of teen suicide, not start a riot."

"No-one's forgotten," Austin says.

"She didn't deserve to die."

There's a long silence.

"She didn't deserve much else, though."

I raise my head. "Huh?"

"Everyone always forgets what she was like before she died. They seem to forget that she used to bully people in the hallways, fight with her friends, get drunk and high at parties, blackmail and manipulate people to get what she wanted," Austin says. "Everyone thinks she was this princess."

"So why are you here?" I say.

Austin shrugs. "Same reason as you? You're right, she didn't deserve to die. But she didn't deserve much else."

For the first time in two years, I see Austin for the person he was before he became popular: the guy who was picked on in freshman year, wore hand-me-down clothes that didn't fit him and glasses that Olly and his friends used to flush down the toilet.

"She made me feel crap about myself," I say and Austin nods in agreement. "I feel bad though, we're dissing her right in front of her grave."

A flicker of a smile reaches Austin's face. "Don't, we're even now."