Perfect

~Prologue~

~After~

She watched the sun peek up over the mountains. Her parents had moved here all those years ago because of those beautiful mountains, the nice little town that they surrounded.She hadn't slept more then an hour, and she rubbed her eyes, trying to wipe away the grit, and the exhaustion that came with it. Her eyes slid over the streets.

Dead silence rung through the neighborhood. The trees and flowers that rippled in the faint wind was the only indication that all those nice houses and shiny cars were more than a photograph.On any other morning, there would be people checking their mail and going to work or walking their dogs. But not today. The sun glared at her now, stinging her eyes. She continued staring directly into it anyways for a few moments, then turned away to look into her own room. Little white dots and stars filled her vision until her eyes adjusted. So big, so impersonal. All very expensive, all very clean. The only sign that someone actually lived in the room was the unmade bed and the newspaper article she'd left on her pillow.

On the front page, a list of organizations and individuals who were doing their best to make sure nothing like this every happened in their little town again. It had ripped everyone apart, even those who weren't involved. She felt her chest constrict and she shut those thoughts down, looking away from the bed. Her eyes slid to the mirror directly across from her. Her long hair hung in her eyes, dirty and flat. She had dark shadows around her eyes, and her face looked gaunt. Pathetic. She stared numbly at her reflection until a quiet knock on the door reminded her of what she had to do. What day it was.

The door swung open, and her mother stood in the doorway, keys already in hand. "Time to go," her mother said, her voice sounding more like a whisper. With one last look out the window, she stood and walked to her bed, picking up the coat she'd laid there earlier. First to the hospital. Valley Pines Psychiatric Hospital. Then to the funeral. She dreaded seeing people there, people who had known her, people who were there when it all happened. She couldn't stand the thought of a big black casket, so impersonal and cold, holding her friend's lifeless body. But she knew she had to go. What would people think if she weren't there? She almost laughed at the thought. She had stopped caring what people thought that awful day, the day an innocent girl died, the day everything came crashing down all around, and she doubted if she would ever care again. One thing that was for certain was that she would never forget.