I was all too familiar with death. I mean, both my my parents were deceased. I had been in many group homes where people had died by suicide. I was used to it. It didn't phase me but this, Destiny being murdered for being in the wrong place at the wrong time had hit me hard. I knew her. I talked to her. Pathetically she was the only friend I had. I had to wonder how it happened.
Did she suffer?
Was it painful?
Did she plead for her life?
Why hadn't she hid like I taught her?
Could it have been avoided?
The police said the place was practically turned on its head. Everything was torn apart and busted down. Maybe she did hide but got found. Then she was asphyxiated. Someone wrapped their hands around her throat or used something that could do the job around until she couldn't breathe anymore. And as if that wasn't enough they beat her up beforehand. I couldn't bare to think about what else had happened prior to her untimely passing.
The whole thing made me want to vomit. It made me wish I was there. I could have done something. Protected her. Or maybe we'd both be gone. That option seemed better than knowing she was gone for good.
I thought that death couldn't affect me anymore. I was numb after my parents passed. I told Jane I didn't remember them but of course that was a lie. I remember my mother getting the news about my father. The police came to our small apartment in the late of night and I remember my mother breaking down into loud sobs. She screamed. She pleaded for it not to be true. I was young but I got the gist of it. I cried for my father but even harder for my mother.
Then she changed. She just caved in on herself.
She stopped working. She stopped cooking. She stopped caring. She just cried all the time. She would send me next door to a young couple who never felt like I was a bother. I can't remember their names but they made me feel like everything was okay even though I knew it wasn't. Although she was a shell of herself she would always knock on our neighbors door around ten to come get me.
One night she just didn't. She asked them if I could stay the night. They still felt empathetic even though so many months had passed. I remember staying there all day and night and another night again waiting for my mother. She didn't come. It had gotten late. She still didn't come. The woman walked me across the hall and knocked on our door but we got no answer. The door was unlocked. She turned the knob. We walked in and she immediately pushed me behind her and told me to close my eyes.
She was too late.
My mother was laying on the floor face down in what looked to be vomit. The woman called for her boyfriend who immediately took me out the apartment. I remember him picking me up and telling me it was going to be alright. He was lying. I knew that. I didn't even cry. I couldn't. I kind of felt like it was coming. I wasn't familiar with suicide but I just knew she would do something. I knew it would be bad.
I never cried for her. I felt angry. Confused. I often wondered why I wasn't enough for her to stay alive. Her and my father loved me. They always said it. My mother used to tell me I was her world. But I guess she wanted an entire galaxy. I had lost dad too but it was like she didn't understand that. Her pain was above all else. And then she couldn't take it. I always thought it was selfish of her.
I still do.
Those were two big losses and now destiny was my third. I wanted it to not be true. I wanted it to be a dream. It wasn't. She was gone. Her life was over before it could even start. She was the main reason I stopped mutilating myself. I remember when she came to Saint Marys. She was small. Skinny. Those big blue eyes held fear. She got picked on because she carried a teddy bear. At first I didn't care.
She then was put to bunk with me and three other girls whom were my age. She slept below me. She cried every night for two weeks. One night I couldn't take it. I remember asking her what her name was. She stuttered out the three syllables and then went on to tell me she was afraid of the dark. She was nine. I felt bad so I offered to sit with her until she fell asleep. That became our routine for months. I talked to her. She was wise for her age. Very mature actually.
She liked spaghetti, loved it actually. She hated her freckles but felt like she'd be boring without them. She said she knew she liked girls since she was five. She wanted to be a doctor. She said their was a misunderstanding that caused CPS to take her away from her family.
She didn't let being in the home change her. She was always a glass half full kind of girl. I couldn't see how.
She had caught me cutting myself about nine months into her stay. I had a "date" with a john just hours before and felt completely broken. I felt disgusting. I couldn't remember anything and that scared me the most. Like most nights I always told destiny to stay under the bed until Sister green left and not to come out until I came back. She didn't need to be exposed to that. I couldn't let her be broken like the rest of us.
I was in the small bathroom about ten of us shared. I had scrapes on my knees. Bruises on my arms and thighs. Stinging between my legs and not a memory of what happened. I was sitting against the tub in a torn dress and tear tracks down my cheeks and making my fifth cut on my left thigh when destiny waltz in. She was stunned. She looked scared. I screamed for her to get out. Of course she didn't listen. She screamed at me.
Destiny started crying asking me what I was doing. What happened. Why did I look so beat up. I couldn't tell her. She begged me to stop. She said she didn't want me to die. I was her best friend. She looked heartbroken. I cleaned myself up and promised I wouldn't do it again. I remember her laying with me that exact same night. She nestled into my side and told me I was going go be okay much like I would for her during her first days there.
She was so young and was comforting me. I promised myself I would look after her. I stopped the cutting. I promised her mother when she came to visit I would take of her.
She was dead now.
The little girl with stars in her eyes and a galaxy in her heart was gone. She didn't deserve that. None of them did but especially not her.
I couldn't express it enough. I couldn't express anything actually. I felt numb all over again. It had been almost a week since I got the devastating news and I felt like I was on autopilot. Like I was doing things but not actually doing them. I continued doing my school work but after I finished I would just sit on the balcony and stare into nothing until I felt tired. I didn't want to talk. I didn't want to eat but I felt so hungry.
I cried maybe twice and then I was done. I was dried up and tired. Emotionally drained. Not even the Prozac could change my mood. Mr. Phoenix and the boys had been keeping their distance. Rylie hadn't slept in the room in four days. They gave me their condolences and that was the end of it.
Destiny's mother had been calling me. She called about ten times. I'm guessing they found her phone including my number. She left me messages. They were having a funeral today though there would be no body in the casket. They got her cremated. They were going to spread her ashes in another state. Apparently Destiny's favorite place was somewhere in Florida. I couldn't remember what she said but she knew destiny would be happy with her choice.
I was surprised they were doing everything so quickly. It was understandable though. The quicker the better. They could mourn later. They would be mourning for the rest of their lives. It was their daughter. I couldn't imagine how they felt and I didn't want to feel it either. Not that I would anyway. I couldn't talk to them in the current state I was in. I didn't know how I would react.
A knock on Rylie's door makes me burrow myself under my blanket and face the wall. A weight dips onto the bed and I only know its Mr. Phoenix because of his expensive cologne. He lets out a breath but doesn't say anything.
"Are you sure you don't want to go to the funeral?" Mr. Phoenix breathes the words out lowly. Of course he had heard the messages. He still had my phone. He was the one who informed me.
I kept my back turned. I hadn't talked in days. I just wanted to mourn in silence. I pull the thick blanket over my head. He doesn't leave. I angrily rip the covers off my body, "Can I just be alone?" I croak out the words. It almost hurts with the lack of my vocal usage.
"Aaron--"
I let out a frustrated scream, "For once could you just stop. I lost someone and I am grieving. Leave me fucking be," I ground out the words and pull the covers back over myself.
He left the room leaving me in silence which was now my only friend.