Just Flowers, Chapter 1

**++ Just so you know, I'm not posting this because I think I'm this great writer and that you'll be better off having read my work. I'm posting this because I need some way to get my typed story to Sherwood Park from Veg and traditional methods (printing or disk) do not work (no printer, no disk drive). So, if you'd like to read and leave comments, feel free to and I hope you enjoy. Also, if you don't like swears, there are a few, so either deal with it, or don't read it.

Just Flowers

Chapter 1

It was 1 a.m. and Bryn sat in the extra bedroom staring at the computer screen, unable to believe what she was reading. Chris had sent her an email. Her eyes moved across the words -

Bryn,
I shouldn't have been so quick to say I love you. I didn't really know the depth of what I was saying until I started talking to Lucas. I know you can trust him at least, since him and your sister... well, you know. I'm really sorry and I hope we can be friends, but I just don't think we should date anymore. Besides, we were gonna break up after grad, right?
-Chris

Her mouth agape, Bryn exited her inbox and shut off the computer. Tears followed, and as she walked to her room, she had a hard time believing that she was awake. She felt the wet on her cheeks, the pain in her heart.
She was awake, alright.

<><><>

Bryn snapped awake. She had fallen asleep again and missed another fifteen minutes of math class. Suddenly they had jumped from the Binomial Theorem to Pascal's Triangle, and she was lost. She loooked around the room making no effort to conceal the fact that she was looking for the clock. She found there was still ten minutes left before school ended, and slid father down her chair until her head leaned on the back of it.
The day had been hard, that was no question, but the lack of sleep, the mounting tension between she and Chris and then Jen being absent made things harder. She gritted her teeth staring at the back of Chris's head. She wanted to hit him, to yell and scream. More than anything, though, she wanted Jen to be there. She would comfort her, make things seem better, or at least get her through the day.
"Bryn?"
She looked to the front of the class. Everyone was staring back at her.
"Well?"
"What?" she asked, too tired to care that she had been put on the spot.
"The answer to number 4. What is it?"
"I dunno."
Mr. Booker sighed. He turned back to the board and finished the question. Bryn slipped right out of consciousness again.

The bell rang.
"Have a good day, everyone. And don't forget to do the whole assignment. I'll be checking tomorrow."
Bryn closed her books and packed up her pencil case. "Bryn, I'd like you to stay for a moment."
Some of the remaining students "oooed" at her, and Mr. Booker's response was two claps and "Chop, chop."
He sat down at his desk as the others left and Bryn swayed from left to right, holding her books. "What do you want?"
"Sit down. And it wouldn't kill you to be polite."
She stepped four paces forward.
"I noticed that you fell asleep again."
"So?"
"Is something going on at home that you need to talk to me about?"
His mention of home brought back memories of when Ellie had blabbed to the school counsellor about their mom.
"It's nothing. I've just been staying up too late."
"Are you sure," he asked, moving closer to her. "I know how parents can be."
"I told you, it's nothing. Why do you assume it's my home life that's fucked up-"
"Bryn!"
"Maybe it's your teaching that's putting me to sleep."
Mr. Booker watched her get her books. "That wasn't necessary. I'm just concerned about your performance in class. Your marks have dropped since midterms and I want to see that all my students get a good education."
Bryn scoffed. "Fine. I'll study more."
She was at the door when he spoke next. "I want to set up a meeting with your mother. It's just to talk about what's going on. Nothing bad. No accusations. If you give her this," he said, taking an envelope from the corner of his desk, "then we can get this over with."
She took the envelope and left without another word. However, she heard Mr. Booker mutter something along the lines of, "Why can't she be more like her sister?"
Stuffing homework she knew she wouldn't do into her backpack, she tried to calm down. All she needed was another thing, anything to upset her and she would officially lose it. "Why isn't Jen here?" she asked her locker as she closed it. "She'd be able to help me."

Once outside as the sun hit her face and the sweet May breeze flowed around her, she felt better, more calm. She would have to walk home alone, and that was fine. She could put together the words she wanted to say to Chris. She could play out the scenario of his humiliation at graduation when he had to enter the Ceremonies Hall alone. She would laugh too, not even hold anything in. He deserved it.
Stay friends, my ass.
She started across the lawn whose grass was much too long for the season and turned right at the corner on the way to her house. Bryn pulled out her cell phone, maneuvering her backpack from one arm to the other as she checked every picket in her jeans and jacket. She swung the pack over her shoulders and began dialing. Holding teh phone up to her ear, Bryn expected to hear a rining, but when there was none, she looked at the screen just in time to see the image f an empty battery flash. It turned off and she shobed it in with the envelope in her pocket.
"Hmph."
There were people outside, walking hand in hand or pushing a stroller, or with a trail of their own little ducklings after them. The temperature was perfect. The sky was clear and blue. The atmosphere surrounding Bryn conflicted greatly with they way she felt. She was single again, only recently, and the break up was not easy.

She stood at the end of the driveway and stared at her house. Whether or not to go in became the question.
"Oh yeah." Bryn sighed, kicking the ground. Before school and the night earlier, she and her mother had fought about responsibilities, or something just as notably absent from the matriarch's mind. She had yelled, and cursed her daughter with the same words Mr. Booker had. "Why can't you be more like your sister?"
Bryn had stormed out, glad to be away from the woman. It somehow hadn't occured to her that she would have to face her eventually. And 'eventually' had turned up pretty quickly. She expelled the thought of going right to Jen's - her father wouldn't allow visitors if she had been sick enough to stay home.
She disappointedly breathed and entered the house, expecting to be bombarded by Angelica's angry voice and idiotic fiats she had undoubtedly spent the day coming up with. When she found herself standing in the dark, Bryn figured her mother was asleep, which meant she was safe enough to get to her room. She moved to the kitchen for some Tylenol (Angelica insisted on keeping it there; it made it easier to find with a hangover) and dropped her backpack. After fumbling on the wall for the lightswitch, Bryn found herself looking at what she had that morning. Everything was the same, save for the open bottle of vodka standing beside the Lucky Charms.
"Oh mom."
She couldn't help but feel responsible for this, and she was disappointed when she felt lucky for getting home before Ellie. Why do I continue to clean up her image when she does nothing to take care of it herself? Bryn wondered. Ellie was still young. Even though she was only sixteen, she was naive, and Bryn didn't want to see that spoiled at the hands of their mother.
She capped the vodka and put it back in the freezer (a ritual she had become accustomed to over the years since her father's heart attack). She had given up pouring out the alcohol in the sink years ago, only because it ended up with her being punished and Angelica crying, locked in her own room with another bottle.
She was stacking dishes in the sink as her mother entered the room. "Bryn, we need to talk."
Bryn paused for a moment, pushing her hands to the edge of the counter to keep from throwing a plate. She couldn't hold in the anger though. "You managed to sound sober there, Mom. I didn't recognize you."
"Bryn, please," she said. By mere lack of retort, Bryn began to get worried. Something must be wrong.
Her choler swallowed the concern she had momentarily felt. "No don't 'Bryn please'!" She whipped around to face the woman. Her trademark bed-head was sitting as usual atop her crown but for some reason, Bryn had a hard time convincing herself that her mother's red nose was from the vodka. Her eyes were pleading with her daughter for something, solace maybe. "What do you want?"
"Before I say anything, I want you to remember that I love you. In spite of everything, I love you."
Amazed, and stupid for her compassion, Bryn said, "Gee, what a bittersweet moment, Mom. Why don't we celebrate with a swig of Smirnoff?" She pushed past her mother and continued purging the room of the day-old dirty dishes.
"Bryn, stop it now. I have to tell you something important." Angelica watched her daughter avoid her gaze. "It's about Jen."
Oh shit.
Bryn stood still and endured the silence as her mother decided how to put her words. "This afternoon, I got a call from Danny - Mr. Currant - and he was really upset. He told me that, oh God, how do I say this? He wanted me to come over because, well, because -"
"Mom. Focus."
"Dammit. Okay." The woman breathed and wiped what was running from her nose onto her sleeve. "He told me that Jen was dead."
Bryn dropped the plate she was holding. As it crashed on the floor, she only stood, taking in everything her mother had said. Dead? Jen? No, it's not true. It's not real. Her breathing near halted and she was unable to hear anything but deafening silence.
A thousand images - Jen a year ago, smiling in the sun, Jen at the park when they were kids, Jen just yesterday when they parted for their houses - passed through her mind and she could feel her lunch churning in her stomach.
Sheer disbelief had kept her in a cocoon, a place with no time and no death, but as she looked upon her mother's face, she realized what was really going on.
"I know it hurts," Angelica said, pulling her daughter into an embrace. She held her tight, like she used to when Bryn was a child. "Don't worry, Bryn. We'll get through this."
Her mother's words were far away, too far to console her, and her touch was unnerving. Tired with grief, Bryn cried. She did not fight her mother's grasp. She would never admit it, but at that moment, she was safe. She was with the woman who fought off danger, who used to be the best mother in the world. She had, though, overlooked this incident and let it slip by.
Bryn shook, and though tears and mucus were stopping her from being entirely coherent, she managed to say, "She's dead."
Out loud, it sounded ludicrous. She wanted to take it back, so that somehow it would take back the day.
"It's okay. We're all here together. We'll get over this together."
Bryn pulled away. She felt a blind hate for the woman before her. How can she say that?
Unable to speak, she walked to her room. Ever step seemed like a mile.
When she finally reached her haven, Bryn closed the door. Weak, she slid to the floor against it and looked around. Her eyes burned with tears and she closed them tight. It's over. It's over. It's over.
She looked upon her room. It had changed somehow. The bright green walls mocked her, said to her "Cheer up, honeybuns, it's not the end of the world."
But it is.

Bryn got up and stumbled to her bed. She fell on it and, although she felt the tears run down her face, she did nothing to inhibit her crying. Jen is worth the tears. Honestly, she would have felt worse if she hadn't been crying.
Her clock told her that it had been nearly an hour since she left school. It could have possibly been the worst hour of her life. Or at least a close second. What she felt only opened wounds of when Angelica had found her husband lying dead on the living room floor on a crisp July evening. She again had been the one to break the news to her daughters.
Bryn sat up and reached for a frame on her dresser. The picture was of her, Jen and Ellie at the old playground. They were squished into the yellow plastic slide; Jen and Bryn in front, and Ellie behind them, her face popped between the other girls. She remembered the day that they tore down the playground. The city was building a memorial garden for WWII veterans; something done maybe 40 years late, Bryn had thought later on.
Jen had cried that day, knowing she'd never get to spit in the sand to make mud castles or swing as hard as she could in hopes of going all the way around the top bar. Bryn cried because she realized that nothing is permanent (this realization was only reinforced by the absence of her father a few years later). The two ten year olds stood at the corner across the street and emptied their eyes for something they would forget about a year later. There would be other parks, other swings.
Now, almost eight years later, Bryn sat on her bed crying for the friend she loved so much but knew she would never see again. That she was so much like Jen made her cry harder. Jen had taken a piece of Bryn with her when she died.

The doorhandle turned halfway, paused, and finished turning, and the door opened, letting a crying Ellie in.
"Bryn," she said bewteen two sniffles. She was a mess.
She ran to her sister and hugged her. As they collided, Bryn dropped the picture and the frame and glass broke on the floor. She pushed Ellie away and dropped beside one of the only good childhood memories she held onto.
"I'm so sorry!" Ellie whispered, touching her sister's back.
She moved away again and picked up the glass, carefully making sure not to cut herself. If there was anything she didn't need that day, it was another reason to cry.
"Bryn..."
Ellie reached out, and pulled back. "Bryn!"
"What?" Bryn yelled.
"You don't have to do that," Ellie said, kneeling beside her.
"If I don't we'll cut our feet."
Ellie smiled sadly. "No. I mean you don't have to pull away. I want you to be here to help me. I need you to." She wiped her tears with her forearm. "I love you Bryn. Jen did too. She probably waited so long just because of you."
Bryn stood and put the broken glass into her trash can. Turning back, she asked, "What do you mean waited so long?"
"Didn't Mom tell you?"
"Does it look like she told me?" Bryn asked, helplessly.
"Oh." Ellie watied for a long time trying to find the best way to say what she had to say.
"She committed suicide."
Suicide? No, never!
It was bad enough that Jen was dead, but to know that her friend, her VERY BEST FRIEND killed herself was too much.
"No," she whispered. She just couldn't believe it.
"What?"
"No. Jen wouldn't do that."
Ellie held her sister's arm. "You and me both saw the scars. We knew what was going on."
"No."
"We tried to help her. We did, but she didn't want it. Remember that she loved us. She just didn't think we'd understand."

"I need to be alone," she told herself as she made her way to the street corner across from a beautiful memorial park. Watching the bluebirds bring twigs to half-built nests, she cried. What had been was now no more and what could have, had been destroyed with Jen's last breath.
It's my fault.
I didn't help her.
I could have, but I didn't.
Why didn't I press it more. I should have told her to get help. She would've hated me, but she'd still be alive.
Oh, God this is all my fault! I killed my best friend.
She knew she wouldn't be able to sleep. Now I'll fail finals, she thought, and as if she had thought something perverse, cursed herself for it.
After a long time, once the sun had set and the streetlamps turned on, Bryn told herself that she would find out.
I need to know.