Burn Our Bridges

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Theme Song-
Carry You Home - James Blunt

Chapter 1

Richard's Incident

October 13~
3:30 PM~

The school's dismissal bell rang. The last bell always seemed to be the loudest. Maybe that was just the anticipation of all of the students. The best part of school was the moment of relief after hearing that final bell, even if it was a little too high pitched.

All of the students in Nightlife High School flooded into the hallways, trying to be the first ones to their lockers. Shoes squeaked against the white tile floors, and the posters on the black and orange walls flew up in the breeze caused by running teenagers. This was always a fun sight to see - all of the cliques mixed amongst eachother in the hallways. Goths standing next to Cheerleaders. Artists standing next to Druggies. If only it was like this all of the time. Maybe then Richard Clark - an eleventh grade, straight A, gay student - wouldn't have been bullied to the point of suicide. Richard was a kind kid. He always offered to go out of his way to do things for everyone, even the people who were cruel to him. He was handsome, too. He had short blonde hair and chocolate brown eyes. He was on the soccer team and on the yearbook staff. He seemed so happy.

Richard was my best friend. Richard was my brother. It hurt so bad to see him go, but I know he's safe now. No one can hurt him where he is. I sometimes believe he even looks down and smiles at everyone. His smiles always cheered people up...especially me.

Let's talk about me for a moment, okay? I have black hair, just like my mom. My eyes are brown, just like Richard's. My dad's a lawyer and my mom's a pediatrician. I live in a big house. A "mini mansion" Richard would have called it. I don't play any sports. Why? I stink at them...really badly. Now, enough about me.

I walked over to my locker, spun the dial to hit the combination, and pulled open the door. They're whispering. My mind told me. I ignored them, grabbed my backpack, and shut the white locker. People whisper whenever they see me. They say things like, "Her brother killed himself.", "Do you think she's a lesbian since her brother way gay?", "I bet she's as breakable as he was."

Honestly, it bothers me horribly. It's been exactly one year since Richard decided to take his fate into his own hands. At first, their remarks made me feel horrible, but now I just feel numb when I hear their constant insults. Instead, they decided to put him down so far he couldn't get back up.

Outside the air was crisp and cold. It was finally fall. The trees were preparing to fall asleep for the winter and letting their leaves change colors and fall off slowly one-by-one. I started walking through the school's yard. The leaves crunched under my feet with every step I took.

10:57 PM~

I woke up laying on the ground. Looking around, I realized I was still in the cemetary. I had come to "talk" to Richard...or at least his grave. Even though he's dead, he's still a great listener. He was always good at that. I remember when people first started bullying me, I came home crying one day. He pulled me into our sunroom, sat me on a chair, sat across from me, and just listened. It was the day before he had killed himself. People had finally began teasing me because they knew it would bug him.

He hung himself the day after I told him. Sometimes I wonder if I hadn't cried, if I had been strong, if he would still be here. I know his note said it wasn't anyone's fault, that it was just his "time to go", but I still feel horribly guilty at times. After he killed himself was the worst. Not only did I have to deal with the death of my best friend, I had to deal with the pain of being mocked because of it. People would say, "I saw her writing a suicide note in English today.", "When will she kill herself?", "I heard she killed Richard because she thinks it's his fault everyone's being mean." That, by far, was the worst.

In no way would I have ever hurt Richard. No one ever understood how close we were. We were close ever since our baby brother, Timothy, was kidnapped. He was always so protective. He also knew what it was like to not have a single friend, so he became my friend.

I used to have friends. I really did. They just began to leave one-by-one after Richard's incident. Their parents even told my parents that I should get help. I didn't understand. I'm was only 16. I was too young to deal with so much loss. It was my birthday when I did try to first take my life. It was the night Richard took his. I had seen him hanging in his room. I had read the note. I could have helped. I could have listened. My parents were busy dealing with the death of their son, they wouldn't have noticed me. I knew it would be the only time I could get away with it.

I had cut from right behin my right ear down to the middle of my neck. My mom had decided to check on me. She found me too soon. I didn't want her to find me. I wanted to be left alone. I wanted to be with my best friend. Now I have a scar, and people aren't afraid to remind me of it.

I don't care.

I gave up fighting when Richard did.

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