Under a Silent Moon

47

Chapter Forty-Seven: The Thing About Goodness

LANA

The entrance of the school is overflowing with gifts left for the dead. Flowers, stuffed animals, handwritten notes, pictures line the stairs and barricade the entrance. The sun is setting behind the building, creating a picturesque scene, like something you'd see in a famous painting. The front lawn is crowded with students, faculty, parents, and others from our neighborhood, all holding candles. One by one, they light their candles, the flames like little lives dancing before us.

Sebastian flicks open a lighter and three of us take turns igniting our own candle, watching the wax liquify and spill over into the styrofoam bowls below each one.

Carly insists we close our eyes and say a prayer. I've never truly prayed before. If God exists, I've never been sure of what I could say to him. I take she and Sebastian's hands in mine and listen to Carly breathe something about closure and grace into the night.

When we've finished, I have to force my feet to move closer, to look at the faces of the slain students. It's difficult to do, but necessary. These are the kids that could've gone to the prom this spring. The kids who could have studied to be future doctors and teachers and mechanics and artists. But now, because of someone who I loved, their short lives were cut off abruptly, mercilessly. The horror they must've seen, the pain they must've felt is almost unbearable.

My knees buckle beneath me, and suddenly Carly and Sebastian's arms are around me, holding me upright. They whisper soothingly to me, telling me everything's going to be alright. But how could everything be right when this whole situation is all wrong?

This wasn't Zack, I tell myself. I have to tell myself something, if I'm to keep moving forward with my life. It was the monster within him. The part of himself that he struggled to control. These kids deserved better, and so did Zack. But if you really think about it, don't we all deserve better? The world is cruel to everyone sometimes, in some way. It's cruel to the good, the bad, and everyone in between. No matter how hard we try to fight it, the world will always be cruel.

But that doesn't mean we have to let it turn us cruel as well.

The only way to fight evil in this life is with good. Good, I think, comes in all different shapes and sizes. Sometimes it arrives as a friend speaking up to a bully or a helping hand when times get tough. Maybe it shows up as a damaged soul in need of healing, or a suicidal friend in need of belonging. And unlike the fairytales, good certainly doesn't always win. Sometimes it loses so violently that you think nothing good could ever happen again. But that's the thing about goodness--although it may not prevail, it'll never go down without a fight.

Zack lost his fight, and in turn, maybe I did too. But despite this loss, there are so many victories to come. Maybe my victory will be a huge, life-changing win, a nothing-will-ever-be-the-same-again win. I reach into my coat pocket and feel the thick envelope stamped and sealed, and know that maybe my victory will be as small as submitting my nursing school application. And maybe that'll be enough.

Zack taught me that silence won't always get you to where you want to be, where you need to be. You can't just sit around waiting for life to give something you never worked for. I realized I won't ever find my success through silence.

As these thoughts swirl through my head like leaves on a fall afternoon, I remember something I needed to tell Zack. Something I should have said long ago, but forgot to. It's funny how the simplest things are sometimes the hardest to say. I kneel down, out of ear-shot of my best friends, and take Zack's photo in my hand. A million words could escape my lips:

I miss you.

I love you.

I've learned from you.

I'll see you again.

But I leave him with this: "I'll forgive you."