CALUM HOOD WAS FOUND WITH A GUN IN HIS HAND, AND A NOTE IN HIS POCKET. The police officers didn't understand it. They just thought it was a stupid kid trying to be poetic. Calum wasn't poetic. Calum was truthful.
Down the bottom of the cliff, Michael laid in a heap, his eyes still wide open. They were dead, but still had fear in them. The officers couldn't bear to look at his remains, and put some tarp over him to preserve the body.
The investigation didn't have to go very far when they raided Mali-Koa's apartment. Inside Calum's bedside table, all of the pills he was meant to take were hidden. He hadn't been taking them for months. No wonder he'd snapped so quickly.
Ashton was talked to by the police, and started to cry when they passed him a note. It was Calum's note.
"Michael was always bugging him about his final piece for art. Calum always said he didn't know."
I found my final piece. Michael.
But it's okay, because I was his too.
"Michael hated himself. It was a common fact. I just didn't – I didn't know he was suicidal."
And that was how they told it. Two troubled teens who killed themselves together.
Even when he was dead, Calum could fool them.
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