Bittersweet

Her piercing gaze was almost deathly, with those blue eyes of hers. They were so bright it was almost scary. She wouldn’t say much, and when she did no one could understand it since she often mumbled. I guess that’s why no one would talk to her, including me.

It feels so different now. Sure, I didn’t know her, but still…I can’t really explain it. I guess all I can do just try and sort this out from the beginning. Maybe then I could understand what really happened…Or maybe you could help me.

Her name was Michelle, that much I know. Her locker had been next to mine since the seventh grade. I never really talked to her though and seldom saw her at her locker. My priorities were already set on my own clique until I was a sophomore. She would always stride alone and open her locker quietly.

One day I said hi to her. She looked at me oddly with that same piercing gaze. Such gaze that I stare at now. Her face looked different that day, black and blue skin covering her jaw. Before I knew it she turned her gaze and walked to class.

Everyone sees those movies or reads those books about a story about some girl in high school feeling left out or whatever and the guy feeling sorry for her then falling for her. And just when she almost breaks down he comes to the rescue. If this is the story you’re looking for then I guess I should stop right now. I didn’t have any classes with her, except Math when I was a freshman and English when I was a junior. I didn’t notice how the teacher never seemed to call on her. Sure, Travis would fall asleep in class and the teacher would make a fool out of him. I still don’t know why that wasn’t the case with her.

She sat in her own little world. Her raven black hair with dark lavender stripes seemed to hang around her face, almost shunning off anyone to come near. The leather bound book that so perfectly fit into her long fingers would always be within her grasp. Until now I never knew what she wrote in there, or even drew.

But I remember one day she didn’t come to school. And even though I knew she skipped often, it felt weird. Not really thinking much of it, since it was Friday night and all, I went ahead and went to a friend’s party. It was one hell of a party I’ll tell you that, and I got a ride home with Ben. Ben was obviously drunk so I had to tell him all the directions until I gave up and leaned over to drive for him. We swerved a bit and by the time I looked up it was too late. The small cramped car I was in had crashed into the driver side of another car.

I was shocked at first. I wasn’t hurt though; just my leg was a little twisted. What I was worried about was the other driver in the car we hit. I didn’t even see her but hearing the medics talk they said she wasn’t going to last. A shower of guilt came over me. After I got home and heard my parents lecture I went to sleep, but kept waking up.

Well, like all weekends, it came and went and before I knew it I was waking up and heading to school. School went pretty good that day I remember, but I also remember Michelle still missing. On the way home, Travis gave me a ride to the hospital. I tried to see the girl the medics were talking about that Saturday night. Talking with the receptionist she gave me the room number. Not thinking much of it I went to the room and stopped, reading the clipboard outside the room. “Michelle Gaure” It read. I was caught hesitant for a moment and shook my head; it couldn’t have been the same Michelle could it?

The room was dark and icily cold as I walked in. In that room laid a thin frail being with a casted arm and cuts and bruises on her face but the blank white sheet covering what other oddities upon her skin. When I came close to her I felt an odd pang shoot up my spine as her piercing gaze just stared. That’s when I knew it was the same Michelle.

I began to say something, stepping a little closer to the side of the bed when I saw something damp all over one side of the sheet. What it was the darkness of the room kept secret, almost as it were teasing me to turn on the lights. And it was winning considering I did turn on the lights. But before I touched the switch something crunched underneath my foot. I looked down to see what gave me goosebumps the size of Texas. It was a razor with such thick liquid that trailed from the bed.

Hastily I switched the lights on and my eyes widened at the horrific scene. The liquid that the darkness wanted to keep so secret was revealed by the eerie luminance of the light. It was blood, trailing down her smooth skin, like someone had spilled paints over a clean canvas. It trailed down from her free arm and her neck. How long she was like this was unknown. I stumbled backwards, about to vomit. She gave no sign of life, only her icy blue eyes burning into me.

I fell back onto my back, the plain leather book she held to her so dearly sitting in front of me. I eyed it for a moment and picked it up. When I looked up once more to look at her, her gaze only stared through me, almost as if she were trying to scare me away, like she didn’t want me to grasp her precious book.

I told the doctors what I saw and what had happened and they confirmed it was suicide after talking to other nurses and her shrink. I don’t know why I was invited to her funeral, but I went anyway. This is where I am right now, staring at those blue orbs that just stare back at me. The leather book was at my side; it’s words and pictures still haunting my mind. I handed it to her parents after she was lowered into the ground that would consume her and where the ground would hold her body close eating her away.

Her words and thoughts still clung into my mind, even though I never knew her. I don’t think anyone did, now that I think about it. But hopefully at least someone will hear her words as I told this story.