The Things We Leave Behind (Chapter Two)
Sucking in my breath I scanned the room: no one moved. No one dared, for if we had the words might've vanished from their place where they hung dry in the air. "Wh-What are you talking about, Luke?" Elle asked frantically.
"I... I don't know..," He said. We could barely make out his slurred, evanesce words.
"Luke if you know what happened you need to tell Detective Presley," I said.
"Wha... Delia, who cares about Presley, you've gotta tell us, man, she was our friend, too!" James yelled. Luke looked guiltily up at us. He shook his head. "Alright... I see how it is then. C'mon, Rach,"
Rachel moved to grab his arm. "James..," She hissed. She gave him a half-shrug-half-eye-roll that suggested he stop in his tracks.
"No, not right now, I've gotta get out of this room, okay? You're either coming with me or you're not but I'm leaving,"
Rachel shook her head, her long brown hair skidding over her shoulders. "Fine," She whispered. "Bye, guys," She stood to follow James.
"Wait, you're not actually leaving are you?" Katelyn rose from her chair, looking scary in her smudged-black makeup. "Our best friend- well, ex-best friend- just died! We're all that we have left... Please," Katelyn begged. "You can't go- we've only just found each other,"
"We'll see you later," Rachel said, rubbing Katelyn's arm. She grabbed James' hand and they strolled out of the room.
Katelyn looked around, shocked and pissed. Elle wasn't paying attention, she was tending to Luke; her huge-doe eyes pinned to him, his argyle sweater and fogged-up glasses. I let out a sigh, realizing that I'd been holding my breath.
The door suddenly burst open. In walked Principal Hall followed by Detective Presley. "Are you all okay? I heard yelling," Presley asked, gesturing with his hand. "Dammit," his eyes had drifted to James and Rachel's now empty chairs. "Watch them, I need to catch up with-"
"Sir," Principal Hall cleared his throat. "It's after hours, the students must have homework. I'm sure we can pick this up tomorrow?" He raised his eyebrows.
"Oh," Presley answered, glancing at his watch. "Yes, of course, I... Thank you for your time." He nodded, and backed out of the room.
For a moment we all glanced around wide eyed. Finally, I sighed. "I should get going," I said. "Homework," I held up my shoulder bag like it was some sort of prize. "I'll... see you all tomorrow,"
I stumbled towards the door, but Luke's voice stopped me: "Delia," His voice cracked. "Guys, can we... go out or something? Just get some food together?"
To all of our surprise, Katelyn laughed: "That sounds really good, actually,"
"Yeah, I think we all need some cheering up," Elle added.
I smiled at them, like the old times. "Pizza Joe's?" I asked.
Luke laughed: a real smile, not any fake giggles. "That sounds... great," He said, standing. He took Elle's hand, and she blushed, looking straight at me.
"Let's go then," I smiled.
On the way we talked.
It was effortless, easy, but drained. We were all well aware of what gad brought us back together, and were equally as aware of the absence of Rebecca. She used to hover over Luke like a fog, jumping on his back and stealing his glasses.
It was apparent, from the way Elle never strayed from his side, that she was really gone.
Katelyn drove to Pizza Joe's and we weren't there long before Rachel showed up, red-faced and breathless. "I'm sorry," She said. "I shouldn't have left, it's just..."
"We were panicking," James said, rounding the corner behind her. "It's crazy to think of us... without..."
"I know," Luke smirked, and James waddled over to hug him. Rachel stepped over them to the seat next to Katelyn, who'd already spilled pizza sauce twice on her brown sweater.
The entire night I couldn't help smiling. We were back! We were together again! I couldn't believe it, everyone was so happy, we even had a few toasts in Rebecca's name- burying our sorrows and worries in the adrenaline high we all got when we were around each other.
It wasn't until the next morning that things got messy again.
The sun rose slowly over the houses outside my window. Rainy Seattle hadn't felt this beautiful in so long: it truly was the end of Spring.
The peace had been short lived; my memory of the day before resurfaced when my phone lit up: LUKE it read.
Groggily, I picked it up. "Hello?" I mumbled.
"Delia?" Luke cried over the receiver.
"Are you okay?" I bolted upright in my bed, almost hitting my head on the wall. "You sound... anxious,"
"Delia, you need to come to my house right now,"
"Luke, what's wrong?"
"I just got an EMAIL from REBECCA. Please, I can't open this alone, I'll call the others just come quick,"
I stumbled to my dresser as soon as he hung up. What the hell was he talking about? The dead can't talk, therefore they certainly can't send emails... Right?
Nothing in my closet seemed to fit the mood of Dead-Best-Friend-Makes-Contact-With-Ex-Boyfriend but I was able to decide on jeans and my Easy Street hoodie. I fumbled in my purse for my car keys and was at Luke's in under fifteen-minutes.
I knocked on the door with shaky hands, and it flung open. Before I could register who had opened the door, hands were around my neck. "DELIA!" Cried a small voice.
"O-Olive!" I stuttered, remembering Luke's younger sister. She was taller now, three years older than when I'd seen her last. The little eight year old I'd known as an eighth grader had changed probably as much as I had.
"What are you doing here? I thought you and my brother weren't friends anymore," She pouted her lips.
"Well, um,-"
"Olive!" Luke called from behind her, his sandy blond hair messy from sleeping. "Go to your room, I need to speak with Delia,"
Olive stood her ground.
"Alone," Luke hissed.
"Ugh!" Olive screamed, "Fine!" She stalked off, but not before turning to make a face at him behind his back.
"So-" Luke's arms were tight around my neck before I could say anything. "Luke..." I didn't know what to say. His shoulders shook silently with tears and it broke my heart- already I cared so much for this group again... Death was a powerful thing, I concluded.
"Delia, I couldn't call the others... It's probably a prank or something but..."
"Luke, I don't blame you for not being able to do this alone," I whispered, kissing his forehead as if he were a child.
"No..." He mumbled into my shoulders. "God, why does she get to me so much?"
"She was amazing," I said, and he cringed. "You have a right to be hurt,"
"I don't wanna be,"
"I know," I whispered softly. "Me neither." A tear dripped again from my own eyes and I swept it away. All at once I felt almost nervous, conservative about my emotions. My face went red and I turned away, adjusting my glasses and running a hand through my short, plain hair.
"Sorry," He mumbled.
"No, no, it's not you..." I strayed off. "I think we need to check out this email," I said, staring at the TV behind him.
A picture of Rebecca flashed on the screen, displaying the words: KIDNAPPING/MURDER VICTEM FROM CALIFORNIA.
The image flashed away and Mrs. Vaughn stood, sobbing next to her husband.
Thankful it was muted, I turned back to Luke. "Now," I said.
dear Scarily Confusing You,
i must tell you, darling;
you've made quite the deposit
in my bank.
the flowers and cute sayings-
and, oh, your
killer grilled cheese sandwiches!
how i miss those sandwiches...
i promise;
i've even tried meditation-
'hummm, himmm- oh crap,
here we go again!'
i cant't get you out if my head!
your sweet disposition;
oh, how ironic!
and the tension between our hearts:
almost ionic!
just go away,
be the thunder to
someone else's lightening...
or come back and be the
sunshine to my blue sky?
Christ, i can't make up my mind.
Sincerely, Heart-Wrenched Me.
The Things We Leave Behind (Chapter One)
When Rebecca went missing, she took a piece of all of us with her; Luke, Elle, Katelyn, James, Rachel and me. Looking back, I guess she took some of the best pieces, but also the worst: our friendship.
None of us had talked for years, except for the occasional 'hello' in the halls. Which is why when Luke Michael came up to me this morning, I almost walked away.
"Delia," he'd called down the school hallway, Elle Richardson in his trail.
I looked around- he couldn't be talking to ME Delia, could he? "Luke?" I asked. "Elle?"
"Something's happened," Elle said frantically.
"Something... As in what, exactly?" I questioned.
"It doesn't matter, come with us," Luke said, grabbing my arm and turning to walk away.
I would've protested, but it was good to see them, hear them, touch them. It was almost like a dream, one I'd had so many times about us all reuniting again after Rebecca; our glue; gave up on us.
Luke pulled me hurriedly down the hallway, zigzagging around our classmates and teachers. I wondered if any of them saw us and wondered about what we were doing together again, like I was.
We rounded one last corner before Luke and Elle peeled off of me into the Principal's Office. 'This is weird...' I thought to myself.
I entered the room right behind them and almost passed out: James and Rachel, who had been together for almost three years and had been the only two to keep in touch since Rebecca left, sat holding hands on the couch next to an angry-faced Katelyn. My breathing quickened as my eyes flickered from face to face pondering: 'Is this all a dream? Are we really all here- and if we are, why? Is Luke's cancer back? Is Rebecca back?'
Principal Hall cleared his throat and brought me back to reality, where Elle and Luke had taken a seat and there were six heads, including them, all glaring in my direction. I lowered my head and took a seat next to Katelyn, who tensed in response.
We all turned our attention to Principal Hall: "Good afternoon, it's good to see you all."
A chorus of mumbled responses slipped from the lips of me and my ex-friends.
"Well... You must all be wondering why you're here..." When none of us said anything, he continued. "This is about Rebecca Vaughn,"
The room tensed. I looked over at Luke to see Elle inch her hand into his, their eyes and faces cast down.
"I'm sorry, you were her friends, correct? The-"
"Yes," I blurted out. "We were her friends, just... a long time ago, before-"
"Before she left. Without saying goodbye. The day after my cancer cleared," Luke spat.
Principal Hall's eyes widened and he cleared his throat again. Elle gave Luke's hand a squeeze. "I see..." Hall said. He shook his head as if shrugging off the awkward fog that now surrounded the room. "Look, there is no easy way to say this. .. Ah, before I tell you, I need to pass these out."
Principal Hall reached behind him for a stack of envelopes. "Rachel Garner," He announced, and Rachel reached up to grab her envelope. "Do not open it," He winked. "James Carson, Luke Michael and Delia Lawson," James, Luke and I all grabbed our letters. "Katelyn Black and Elle Richardson," Katelyn and Elle reached for their respective envelopes.
"What is this about?" James asked, staring at the envelope in his shaky hand.
I peered at mine: a white envelope with ice-blue writing addressed to me. But I froze: 'Ice-blue pen and loopy A's, W's and D's? This was Rebecca's handwriting.
"Mr. Carson, I'm sorry to inform you- all of you- that Rebecca Vaughn has been killed," The room was still, and silent. Mr. Hall continued: "She was found wrists bound, with twenty-two anti-depression pills in her system and slit wrists, ankles and neck in an abandoned house over 1,000 miles away from her home in California,"
"California," Luke breathed. Mr. Hall nodded. Knowing where Rebecca had gone almost made us angrier. "Dead?" He said.
"I'm sorry, Mr. Michael. I understand you and her had a... Special connection a few years ago before she left,"
Luke turned tomato red. "Uh, yeah, I guess," he said.
Luke and Rebecca had dated eleven months: all through his cancer, and Chemotherapy. They'd been the closest of all of us, and even won Cutest Couple for our grade.
"What do these... Letters have to do with Rebecca?" Elle asked.
"Those were found at her home. They'd been left there the day before she went missing: three days before she died and five days before she was found. Her parents found them sealed and addressed to you," A deep voice said. A tall man in a police uniform entered the room. "Detective Presley," He introduced himself.
I swallowed. "You mean... Rebecca wrote theses as... Suicide letters?"
"Ms. Lawson I'm afraid that's not so," Mr. Hall said.
"The police have found evidence of struggle," Detective Presley explained. "Rebecca Vaughn was kidnapped and murdered,"
My heart went cold. I was numb and breathless. Rebecca was... Murdered? But everyone loved Rebecca! Until she left...
"Who did it?" Rachel pushed.
"I'm afraid we cannot yet confirm who, exactly, but we are working on suspects," Presley said. "After you open your envelopes, we can get started with those as evidence," He reached over James' shoulder and patted his letter.
"C-can we have some privacy?" Elle asked, ever the calmest.
Presley nodded. "Of course, call us in when you're done or if you need us." He smiled with no teeth, and took Mr. Hall out into the hallway.
For a moment, no one spoke. We just stared at each other, shocked, unsure of quite what was going on. "Well, this is kind of insane," Rachel broke the silence.
Nervous laughter filled the air. "Well... I guess we should probably open these," Luke said.
Elle nodded. "Uh, everyone read their own and then we can share afterwards, okay?" She said.
We all mumble yes's and begin tearing open the envelopes. I carefully open mine so not to rip anything.
I pull out a piece of white paper, written in the same blue ink. DEILS, it was addressed to:
WOW, HAS IT REALLY BEEN THREE YEARS SINCE I LEFT? I GUESS IT HAS... I HEARD RACHEL AND JAMES ARE STILL TOGETHER. THAT'S GREAT, I'M SO HAPPY FOR THEM!
TO BEGIN, I KNOW YOU ARE ANGRY WITH ME FOR LEAVING. BUT, DELIA, I'VE NEVER QUITE BEEN ABLE TO EXPLAIN MYSELF. SO, AS I SIT HERE PREPARING TO DIE, I AM GOING TO TRY.
HERE GOES NOTHING: SOMEONE HAS BEEN THREATENING ME SINCE LUKE'S CHEMO BEGAN. I'M NOT SURE IF THAT IS WHAT STARTED IT, BUT WHOEVER IT WAS THREATENED ME, HIM. YOU. ELLE, KATELYN, JAMES, RACHEL. ALL OF YOU.
I DIDN'T KNOW WHAT TO DO, SO I SHUT YOU OUT; I COULDN'T LIVE WITH MYSELF IF HE HURT ANY OF YOU.
WHEN YOUR CALLS AND TEXTS SEIZED AND YOU VOLUNTARILY UNFOLLOW-ED MY SOCIAL MEDIAS, IT HIT ME: I WAS TRULY ALONE; I'D SUCCESSFULLY UNFRIENDED YOU ALL. AND BECAUSE LUKE WAS OFFICIALLY OKAY, I LEFT. MY MOTHER GOT A JOB IN CALIFORNIA AND I HAD NO REASON TO STAY ANYMORE.
BUT THE THREATS FOLLOWED ME. THEY GOT HARSHER AND DARKER UNTIL THEY CAME DAILY AND I ALMOST NEVER LEFT MY ROOM.
I WAS SO SCARED, BUT NOT ANYMORE.
HE WARNED ME; HE'S COMING FOR ME TOMORROW. I AM OKAY WITH IT; I'M TIRED OF LIVING IN FEAR. SO I WILL DIE.
BUT DEAR GOD, I CANNOT LET MY DEATH GO AS A QUESTION, AND THE ONLY PEOPLE WHO CAN FIGURE OUT WHO HAS BEEN THREATENING ME IS YOU AND THE OTHERS SITTING AROUND YOU. PLEASE, PLEASE DO THIS ONE THING FOR ME: FIND THE GUY(S?) WHO ARE THREATENING ME BEFORE THEY FIND YOU.
I UNDERSTAND IF YOU WON'T HELP, BUT I AM TRULY SORRY. I LOVE YOU GUYS, AND I'M BEGGING YOU TO HELP ME. PLEASE. LUKE WILL KNOW WHERE TO BEGIN. GOODBYE, DELIA.
XX, REBECCA <3
When I looked up from the letter, their faces we're blurred from my tears. I wiped my eyes and realized I wasn't the only one crying. In fact, we all were.
I reached next to me for Katelyn's hand and grasped tightly. She followed suit with Rachel, who passed it to James, to Luke, to Elle, back to me. We all closed out eyes before looking shakily towards Luke.
"Luke," Rachel sniffled. "What do you know,"
His shoulders shook, his head in his hands. "Sh-she said she loved me," he cried. Elle rubbed his back; Rebecca had been his only love.
"Shh," Elle hushed him. We all sat silent again, waiting. But tears kept rushing down out cheeks with no stop, and I was getting restless.
"Luke," I whispered after a few minutes. He looked up at me with his big, blue doe eyes, and all I could see was fear. I smiled slightly, and nodded, confirming: 'It's okay, just tell us,'.
"Well, I guess-"
"Wait," James interrupted. "We're actually doing this? She left us, betrayed us! And even if she had a decent reason, she never even said goodbye," He stood up. "You can't be serious," He gestured to our softened expressions.
"James, she was our best friend," Katelyn said.
"Yeah, and she tore us apart,"
We all looked down: James was right. But for Rebecca, I coughed, raised my head and spoke: "And now she's dead," Their eyes' widened. "I guess she got what was coming for her, huh?" I added.
"Delia," Elle said, shocked.
Rachel nodded. "Easy, tiger." She said to Elle, who backed up. "Delia is right. She got what she deserved, in a twisted way, but she was our friend; and this is- was- her dying wish," She cringed and Elle reached again for Luke, instinctively.
James cleared his throat. "Alright," he sighed, throwing up his hands. "Luke, what do you know?"
He said it more like a statement than a question, almost accusingly. But it worked; Luke surrendered.
"I knew something was wrong," he began through more tears. "She told me some things were going on, that I wouldn't understand, but she wouldn't... Specify." He shook his head. "I should've pressed... I-I, I should've known!" He cried.
"Luke, we all should've seen it. Or, something, at least! It's not your fault," Katelyn said.
"I know, but... It is," Luke stared at the floor, not daring to look at our eyes. "I knew someone was threatening her," he admitted.
"What?" We all cried, confused and tired.
"I'm sorry, okay? She said it wasn't a big deal and not to worry about it, then I guess she... Lied. She said it stopped,"
"Well clearly it didn't," Rachel sneered.
"Hey," Elle warned. She turned. "Luke, you didn't know,"
"I could've saved her!" Luke sobbed. "But she left, and when I reached out she shoved me away! It's all my fault!"
"Luke, she didn't die until three years after she left, you couldn't have anything to do with her at that point," I said, trying to calm him down.
Luke guiltily looked at his shoes. "Unless..?" Katelyn challenged.
"I sent her emails continuously," Luke whispered. Elle looked like she'd been slapped, and Katelyn was taken aback. Rachel and James just stared blankly. "For months, until I realized: she's never coming back..." His voice cracked. "I stopped about one and a half years after she left," he bit his lip to keep from crying out.
"Well that's good, you weren't in contact when it happened," Elle offered.
Luke finally looked up. "She emailed me back the night before she died." He said. "She said that she had gotten a new email and never checked her old one, but that I needed to stop contacting her altogether. She told me that she was moving on and that I should too," He let out a sob. "She said it would be bad for both of us if I kept emailing..."
"Shit, Luke..." Katelyn said. "I'm sorry,"
"You should've told us," Elle said. "Or at least me," she added.
"But how could I do that? Because, the thing is guys, I think I killed her,"
interesting mix i guess
I'm back in Liverpool and everything seems the same,
round and around like a horse on a carousel we go, will I catch up to love? I can never tell
and I am a man, manmanman upup in the air, and I run aroundround this towntowntown and act like i don't care.
and I remember the nights we spent under city lights;
someone should teach you some manners!
cuz if this is what you think is honest, honestly i think I'm gonna freak out.
this is gospel for the fallen ones locked away in permanent slumber
rushing in a small town, I forgot to call you,
we are all stranger creatures than when we all started out as kids; culture forbid.
gimme gimme that love I been waiting for you.
he’d lazily loved a lover of the lowest kind...
his fingertips traced
the constellations on her face;
soft as silk,
now he's fingering her wake.
they were like a merry-go-round,
circles, circles: nowhere bound.
'cuz she'd live and breathe
but still never make a sound.
he kissed the ghost
of her knuckles the most:
could almost hear her sing but she
loved love from other hosts.
there’s no such thing as a broken heart... right?
you use up my tears
now there's nothing but dry sobs
as I sit choking up
vanilla-flavored shards of my heart.
I'm not an idiot,
but I am when I'm with you.
You puncture my neck:
watch me bleed, you always do.
I don't get the term 'broken'.
I think we can always be fixed,
but my hand twitched
in time to the heartbeat in your palm.
(there is no heartbeat
in your palm;
there was only frozen movement,
fidgeting to your favorite song;
(it played over and over all night long.))
now I've grown soft,
my sobs aren't real?
not even I know how to feel.
Spaceman Superhero
he was born from the galaxy
beautiful and bright
his words and heart save me
each day, every night.
he's my superhero;
my best friend.
the one I can always count on
until the very end.
and the stars seem to shine
a little more when he's around.
it makes my heart flop when
he says he's not okay as he sounds.
I wish I could help
but what can I do?
I'd been broken--
until I met you.
