2 | Jumped To The End of His Life
EVERYTHING IS NOT okay at all.
And the most ironic thing about Andrew Caldwell is that he became a nobody to a somebody. Sadly, not a thing was heard about Andrew before he had done his final signature on the deed, but now?
To say he gained fame under a short amount of time is an understatement.
The media was scattered everywhere around the school campus, and numerous of people, people that never even acknowledged Andrew's presence while he was well and alive, finally acknowledged him and had the guts to actually cry and be interviewed during this very glum day.
"How are you holding?" Victoria approaches Rebecca, and hands over a warm cup of coffee from the vending machine. Rebecca hugs herself from the cold as she is in her coat. She tries to smile thankfully to Victoria, but it was all but a comforting one.
"No thank you," Rebecca says.
"But I insist," Victoria did not take no for an answer, and Rebecca, with her shaking and fragile fingers, slowly took the cup from her friend. Her eyes are swollen, and as she evidently did not get any sleep from the past few days, it only made her look worse. "Look, Rebecca, I—"
"I wonder why they didn't cancel school at all," she suddenly says, "Someone committed damn suicide—"
Victoria frowns as both of them looked around their surroundings. They were in front of the school where the skies were as sullen as the atmosphere was. "We held that ridiculous mass, which did not help at all. This school is traditional on its values, but I, as well, am starting to question its' authenticity."
Rebecca chuckles humorlessly. She didn't have to say anything to see how absurd everything was. It's been going for days since Andrew's horrid death: where people pretend to be his long time 'friend' and try to be affected by everything.
Victoria did not press on anything to Rebecca, nor did she press anything about Andrew...yet, probably. It was too soon, she thought. It was too soon. She couldn't make herself ask her what she saw because it would be too gruesome for her as well, seeing him normal—with a pulse—right before he had jumped.
Jumped to end his life.
She shudders at the thought of the sight of the body bag. Andrew Caldwell's body bag. Nothing beats that except for the memory of seeing the concrete wall and grass with his blood.
It has been three days since Andrew's....Victoria couldn't think about it further. She couldn't think about the last conversation she had online with a stranger. It's funny because she never even knew this person, but every time she would remember this, her heart would pound hard.
Calm down. Everything is ok.
It's not.
And Victoria doesn't think it will be for a very long time, or at least for now.
"This is sickening to see," Rebecca says.
"What is?" Victoria ask back absentmindedly.
"Everything." And right after that, she crushes her now-empty paper cup, and simply throws it on her feet. Rebecca starts to walk back into the school's academic grounds, or inside, and Victoria figures out that she wants to be alone.
Victoria has been trying hard to reach out to Rebecca, but her advances only made her friend make spiteful remarks about everything that has happened. She just stays in her place, watching Rebecca slowly open the entrance to the main building. She doesn't fail to see Rebecca shudder as she touched the door.
She sighs, as she didn't get much sleep either for the past few days. To think that she talked to Andrew, calmly for that matter, on the day itself.
It didn't make sense. Maybe it did on some scholar's research about behaviour, but Victoria realized that jumping to conclusions on the mysterious Andrew Caldwell is harder than she thought.
Very, very hard.
"DEPRESSING, DISTRESSING, AND DISHEARTENING," a lady says in front of all the student body. From afar, her eyes matched somewhat like Rebecca's: tired, weary, and paranoid. The lady, who must be within her forties, had a microphone and was in front of all of us on a stage.
Victoria can't help but to stare at Andrew Caldwell's picture beside her. It was a huge one inside an enormous frame. It was his yearbook picture. A picture that will remind them all what has happened to him.
Alex sits next to her best friend, and takes her hand. She noticed she was also looking at the same direction. "How awful this must be for his mother."
"I can't believe we're having Andrew's memorial here in the school," Victoria says, while looking at some candles that had been lit up around the image itself. "It haunts me. It disgusts me."
Alex opens her mouth, but is stopped by the continuing words of Mrs. Caldwell. Victoria looks at her again, and she doesn't see the resemblance between her and her son. Probably because she was never his friend in the first place.
"I do not know why Andrew, oh Andrew...my baby," the voice of Mrs. Caldwell breaks, and she puts her hand in front of her mouth. She continues. "We never saw any signs. We never could find a reason why."
"Andrew...he wasn't a troublesome kid. He never got bullied. He was transparent with us. We raised him that way. No secrets. But why does it feel like I am locked in front of my own house, even if I have the keys to it? Why—why?" Mrs. Caldwell stops again there, and a tear escapes Victoria's eye. Alex catches this, but she doesn't say anything, and continues to listen to the speaker who is breaking all of their hearts.
"But I guess he wasn't that transparent at all because if he was, we could have seen this coming, or better yet," she slowly says, "It would never have even crossed his mind. And I regret it so much."
She looks at all of us. Tears roll down her cheeks but she doesn't stop them from doing so. "I loved Andrew. We all did. And I am ashamed for him to be my son because I wasn't good enough as a mother."
And maybe, Victoria thought, that the people whom were talking to the press for the past few days simply tried to live out Andrew Caldwell because he was never heard of before.
Because he was a flame that died too early, and these people just longed for it to come back again. Although, you can't light another wooden match stick. It won't work anymore. Even if you try and try to light it up, you'll just scratch more sensitive things.
"And I will never ever see my baby grow up. I will never do. And I cannot forgive myself for this because I could have stopped it, but I didn't."
Victoria felt a pang of sadness in her aching heart, and at the same time, she felt like she was stung directly.
Why did you end your life, Caldwell? Why did you do this to all of us?
Andrew Caldwell might have jumped to the end of his life, but not the end of his existence while he was still here. He still lingers and it doesn't seem like he will ever leave.
"And somehow, at some sick way, there's a part of me that does not want to know his motive because I fear it will break me apart, and it's much stronger than this one." Mrs. Caldwell says, and that's when she drowned into her own tears that she couldn't say another word anymore.
Maybe this memorial service isn't a good thing after all.
{a/n HELLO HELLO I GUESS I AM FINISHING THIS STORY one way or another because i see that i don't finish what i start, and in all aspects, i want to change that. i want to end what i start, and leave it with proper closure.
i will proofread this tomorrow but for now....zzzz
oh and by the way, i've been longing for christmas break! finally. school is so hectic!
dedicating this to @Fractured_Moonlight because thanks to you, i now have this amazing cover being used! thank you so much! sorry for the wait though haha}