Something Different

Chapter 1

  My name is Vernelle Perkins, and I hold a secret concerning my best friend's death. She ended her life and I feel as though I played a part in it. No one knows this, not even my own mother. She's moving us from Florida to a small town in Minnesota because I just need to "get away" from it all.  The truth? I will never get away from it all. It haunts me like a shadow in the night. Grief is not the only thing that weighs me down, guilt plays a role in it too. Here is my story..if you can bear to read it. 

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   "Baby, don't you love your new room? The hardwood might be a little worn but it's definitely bigger than your room in Florida." 

   My mother stands in the doorway of my "new room." I walk around in it and try to ignore her goofy smile. Ever since Alyssa died, my mother puts on this ridiculous smile. There is nothing truly genuine about it. She just sees me as a hurt puppy who needs to be spoken to softly and nurtured. 

 "It smells kinda musky, Mom," I reply while frowning. 

 "V, it just hasn't been lived in for a while. The smell will go away! I will get you a new candle right away, for the time being." 

 I push my dark hair behind my ear, "The curtains are creepy."

 "I will get you new ones!" Her smile widens.

I go over and touch the dark, tattered, curtains that clothe the only window in the room.

"You know what, I like them. They add character to the room."

 I hate being treated like a hurt puppy.

 "You're right and once the men I hired help set up the furniture, your room will look so fantastic. Aren't you so excited?"

 I muster up a small smile, "Totally." 

 My mom looks down at her watch, "Well, it's getting fairly late. I put the sheets on your mattress. Why don't I let you get to sleep. Tomorrow you start your first day at Ely High School. You have to be well rested." 

 I know she knows that I barely sleep. The dark circles under my green eyes are obvious, but I play along. 

"Yeah, definitely."

She blows me a kiss and leaves my room, shutting the door behind her. 

I look over at the matress on the ground and how sad it looks. Sadness is my aesthetic though. I dig around in a box and pull out my clothes for tomorrow; a black, long sleeved t-shirt, jeans, and my beat up vans. If Alyssa were here, she'd be rolling her eyes at me. She used to always make sure I had a cute and flattering outfit on.

 Now, I wear the old thing everyday. I used to be really good with makeup, but I haven't touched any of it for about a year now. Alyssa said it was one thing I never needed anyways. My eyelashes are long and dark, and my skin, for the most part, clear. I don't really care though. Nothing matters anymore. I lay down on my mattress and stare at the ceiling. It has cracks in it and the grey painting is peeling like a bad sunburn. 

"Goodnight, Alyssa," I whisper. I tell her goodnight every night , just in case she can hear me, and just in case she forgives me.