HOLLOW
I felt empty, a sort of hollowness that won't go away. I don't think it ever will. It only seemed to grow, become heavier and thicker as Ainsley's funeral steadily approached. And when that day came, the day I saw Ainsley's name engraved on a tomb stone it felt like my chest bottomed out and my heart fell through an endless black hole. It was a numb feeling, but I knew when the numbness wore off, I'd still feeling nothing, because there wasn't anything to feel.
The day arrived and I saw Kayla, Lori and Jayla stood together, supporting each other. Lori's hair was bleached, such a light fluffy color compared to her normal brown hair. She'd been talking about getting it bleached all summer. I remember how excited she was even though her father had fought her every step of the way.
Kayla's red tangle she called hair was braided tightly. But you could see the corkscrew curls trying to break free, back to their naturally bouncy state. Kayla always had the most amazing hair. Although she hated it with a passion and often became her focus of the day as she tried to keep it from tangling constantly.
Jayla almost never did anything with her hair. It was black and nappy, but it never bothered her. Obviously today she let her older sister, Brianna, get a hold of it. It was braided right down to her scalp with little beads at the end of each strand. It was such a Brianna touch.
Seeing them again made it all that harder, made me realize how much I missed them all. I wasn't sure if they had noticed me, but I didn't want to talk to them. If it weren't for my mother I'd of never actually come. Seeing Ainsley's family was too much and I decided to hide behind a nice tall and wide tree that was seated in the cemetery. There was a stone bench beneath it. I quickly took a seat, facing away from the gathering crowd around Ainsley's casket.
Kids I recognized from my old school, parents that I had seen volunteering, even teachers I once knew showed up. Everyone paying their respects. People off to the side talked in hushed whispers trying to figure out why Ainsley had killed herself. She had wrote almost nothing in her suicide note besides one sentence that haunted me.
I could hear Ainsley saying it, picture her mouth molding around the words. I could see it, hear it and it scared me.
Ainsley: "I can't live with myself."
The words echoed in my head, taking on her voice, driving me insane.
My head shot up as I heard footsteps approach. A little boy with a head full of wavy brown hair and such dark blue eyes stood in front of me with a little figurine clutched tightly in his hand. Andy.
Andy: "Hi, Freya."
Andy hoped up on the bench beside me, fiddling with his little back tie.
Me: "Andy."
His name left me breathless and made my chest clench so painfully.
Andy was Ainsley's little brother, only seven. He was the sweetest little kid, but I knew from first hand experience he could be a sneaky little devil. I remember when he was born. Ainsley and I were eight. She hated him so much, thought he was the devil's spawn.
So naturally I had backed her up in her hate. We used to make a game out of seeing who could make him cry the hardest. That game stopped around when he turned three. It wasn't fun making a little boy cry anymore, especially since he not only looked up to Ainsley, but also me like we were his heroes. Seeing him made we want to cry, made the numbness wear off. Made me feel the pain I was blocking.
The sad thing was when I looked into his eyes, I knew that he didn't know that Ainsley was dead. At that sudden moment I hated her for killing herself. For leaving Andy like this. And then I remembered why she killed herself and I hated myself more then I ever thought I possibly could.
I reached over and wrapped Andy in my arms, and I hugged him with all I had and I didn't let go. I knew the minute he realized something was really wrong when he started to cry and I could feel the tears on my shoulder.
Andy: "Where is Ainsley?"
He asked, although his voice muffled by my hair I heard him crystal clear. Hearing him ask just broke me and I cried. I held him and he hugged me right back. His face buried into my neck and we both cried.
I felt more hollow then I ever had before. So empty I was sure a hole somewhere was letting all the air out inside me. Just blowing away with nothing I could do but deflate.
I was hollow, completely empty.
YOU ARE READING
SUPPRESSION •Complete•
Teen Fiction"This would be a better story if I were dead." -Freya Sinclair ••• Suppression was never the key, that doesn't mean we didn't try to shove into the lock. @2014 all rights reserved Story is completed and is in the process of editing and then the chap...