How ironic life can be. Those who made fun of you are standing today, dressed in black, at your funeral, crying and grieving for your death.
Your mother can't bear to watch anymore. She captures herself in the arms of your father as tears stream down her cheeks. Your father is crying too, silently, but obviously as his shoulders are shaking violently and his eyes are bloodshot and full of tears; he tries to look strong. Your brother, on the other hand, is crying non-stop, like his mother. He was two years older than you, but you've always been close. He loved you so much. Your little sister doesn't understand what's going on. She's too young to understand. She has noticed your absence, though, and she wants you back.
Your best friend is totally off. Her eyes are bloodshot from crying, on her cheeks there are marks of her dry now tears and just when she thought she had calmed down, tears are brought again in her eyes. The condition of all your friends is more or less the same. All of them are crashed and everybody's minds are darkened by only one thing: the memory of the day before.
~*~*~*~*~*~
In the morning, your mother had woken up early. Your father was on a business trip in Bulgaria so it was now her responsibility to wake all of you up and make you breakfast. She had woken up your brother, whose room was on the 2nd floor and she tried waking you up by shouting since she couldn't climb the stairs to the attic, where your room was, because of health problems. She decided to let you sleep until she get breakfast ready, neglecting the fact that you had fallen into a forever lasting sleep.
After she didn't get an answer after five minutes of shouting your name, she was forced to come up, but when she entered your room, she just saw an empty, laid out bed. She grew confused. Usually you made noise when you woke up and you never did your bed just because you wanted to. Her automatic reaction was to knock on your bathroom door, where you should logically be. Without having an answer, she opened, worried now, your door and saw you.
Silence followed for a few seconds and then, the piercing, terrified scream of your mother travelled all through the house.
Your brother, who was having his breakfast, upon hearing your mother's scream, he jumped from his chair and with worry filling his heart, he run up to your room. Opening the door your mother had closed earlier, he heard her sobs. He entered your room hesitantly, with the worst scenarios running through his head, and reached the wide open door of your bathroom. In a matter of seconds, tears rolled from his eyes and he fell to his knees, next to your mother, who was hugging your motionless body and was letting her tears fall on your now pale, frozen cheeks. Your brother hugged with his one hand your mother, who let her head drop to his shoulder, and with his other hand he brought your body close to him and soon let his sobs leave his throat.
Guilt washed over his mind; he remembered all the times he picked on you just to push your buttons, all the times he could have said something offending or something that, without him knowing, could have hurt you. Slowly, he started blaming himself.
Your mother, on the other hand, was blaming herself for letting her daughter do this. She blamed herself for every time she grounded you, every time she lectured you and for not realising earlier that you were so sad.
After a few minutes of sitting there, grieving for your death, your brother wiped his tears, sniffed and got up; he had to call your father to tell him what happened. He got out of your room and started going towards the phone, but your little sister popped up in front of him, just awakened. She took a look on your brother and, noticing his tears and his bloodshot eyes, she asked him what was wrong with him. But before he could answer that, she asked what was going and where you were. He replied with a simple "she's gone", not knowing how to tell the truth to an innocent four-year old. Your sister asked if you did it because you didn't leave you alone when your friends were over and took your things all the time. Your brother gave her a sad smile and told her you didn't do it because of that and sent her to the kitchen to prevent more drama.
An hour later, yout father had been infoormed and took the next flight back home, your mother and brother had managed to hold their tears in, had called an ambulance and now your mother was at your principal's office, telling him you wouldn't be coming to school any longer. When the principal asked why, your mother couldn't take it; she burst into tears for the second time that morning. She gave a synopsis, through her sobs, of what had happened earlier this morning.
Soon, the bell for the assemblance and prayer had rang and all the students crowed and all the teachers got out of their office. After a while, the principal came out too, with your mother, who hastily got out of campus. Like any other day, a kid took the microphone and said the prayer. After that, the principal took the microphone, but instead of the usual lecture about being late and the stupid things some students did lately, he announced something way more importand: your death. Or better yet, your suicide. He said, more or less, what your mother had told him.
Right after the word 'suicide'and your name came out of his mouth, whispers and mumbles run through the crowd of students. Your best friend, who was wondering why you were late, was numb. She didn't even cry because of the shock. All the tears she spilled, she spilled once the new information sunk in her mind, which was after she went home. Your friends were in a similar condition; they didn't know what to do, they couldn't proceed that new information. They just cried. All the people who made fun of you were feeling incredibly guilty and they couldn't believe what they heard. They didn't think you'd go that far; it was, after all, just a joke, right? Your ex, the cause of everything, feels responsible for everything.And that boy in your class that you never really noticed yet had stolen his heart and refused to give it back, feels crashed. Your teachers are in shock too. Most of them liked you and the news of your death were hard to believe. Many people you didn't even know felt sad and some even cried. But most of all, no one could believe it. You gave the impression of being happy. How could they have suspected that in reality, you were so sad that you did this?
The day passed by in slow motion. Everyone blamed themselves for your action. Your best friend and your friends for not doing anything to help you. Your ex feels like a murderer; he'd do anything to bring you back and apologise for what he did. Your bullies want nothing more than to erase the past and apologise But it's too late to apologise now. The boy that had a crush on you regrets for everything he didn't get to tell you and calls himself names for not having the guts to tell you how he felt about you; maybe that way, something could be different. Your teachers believe they are responsible; maybe if they had been a bit less strict to you and gave you a few chances lately that you had been falling behind at class, you'd have a reason less to do it; maybe you wouldn't do it at all. Many students, even though you didn't even know or hung out with them, can't help but wonder if they were somehow a reason to your action. But it's too late for everything now; for the apologies, for the love, for the chances, because you're dead now. You commited suicide. That's it, you made your decision. Time can't go back and what's done is done. It can't be erased.
