His Was an Empty One
By Kelly Daniel
She gazed out the window with the appearance of being extremely far away without having traveled any distance at all. In truth, her mind was not on the teachers babbling in the least. In fact, it almost never was. She thought about this and that, and mostly the stresses she was experiencing at that moment. Today it was Him. He was often the subject of her thoughts. Sometimes it was dreamy thoughts of going to the movies, and once in a while it was sensual thoughts of His lips on her mouth and neck. It had never happened, but not because He didnt want it to. Today it was of a previous conversation. He had been depressed again, and those conversations always turned to suicide. He had sounded no more serious than always, but todays conversation had been much more graphic. She hated to think about it; just the memory of how enraptured He was with suicidal thoughts made her cringe.
"Earth to Lina." Her teachers voice interrupted her reverie. "Lina, whats the square root of 365?"
That day after school, Lina talked little with Him. She called Him, but He was in a mood. It was commonly the tail end of the suicidal mood, a time where everything was her fault and He seemed to hate her. Right from his greeting, she could tell it was not going to be a pleasant conversation. It ended quite abruptly, as this type usually did. Though she didnt know it, after she had hung up on Him, He sat and listened to the dial tone for half an hour. At the same time she sat at home and sulked.
The next morning, filled with a strong sense of apprehension, Lina awoke groggily to her alarm. These feelings surfaced once in a while, like the time her mother wrecked the car, or her sister got lost in the store. But there was never anything she could do to stop it, even if she knew what would happen, so she went about her business that morning and ran to catch the bus, working against her intuition, wondering what the day would throw at her this time.
In school that day social studies was a bore as usual, and gym and French dragged by. Today Lina was looking forward to algebra, as she sometimes did. All of the teachers were late to arrive. They were probably in the middle of a meeting that ran late somewhere.
Lina was always on good terms with her teachers. They knew a lot about her. They knew He and she were good friends, and she really didnt mind.
The class was beginning to get noisy, as it always did when left unsupervised. The minutes ticked by, and Lina began to wonder. The teachers were never this late; never this negligent of their need to be in the classroom. The level of noise grew to a deafening roar. "Shes coming!" came the all-important warning from a fellow student. Everyone clambered back to his or her respective desks. The room was silent by the time the teacher walked back in, with the exception of a few telltale giggles.
"Lina." started Ms. Harper softly. This startled her because she hadnt done anything. Lina was never addressed directly when the teachers came back to a disruptive class. "Please follow me to the guidance office." A collective gasp arose from the class. One of the guidance counselors moved into the room, while Lina packed up her belongings. As Lina rose and moved to her teacher, she could see some seemingly covered signs of crying on her teachers face. Her skin was blotchy and her eyes puffy. They moved quickly in the direction of the guidance office. During their trip, no words were exchanged. Lina was nervous and uncomfortable with the tense feeling in the air.
When they arrived, all of Linas teachers had settled into the chairs around the table. Her other guidance counselor, Mr. Collins, stood in the corner, almost blending in with the off-white walls. "Whats the matter?" asked Lina. She tried to cover the nervousness in her voice by projecting even more airiness than she typically used. As she glanced around with a shaky once-over, she noticed the collectively grim look. Just as she was really getting nervous, her parents walked in. "Why are they here?" she asked in a trembling voice. Her strong facade was beginning to break down to let her quivering, fearful self show through.
"Dear, maybe you should sit down," started her algebra teacher.
"No, I dont want to. Just tell me whats wrong." Lina looked to her parents for support, but they looked more clueless than she felt. Her mother moved in her direction, and said,
"Yes, why dont you just tell us whats wrong."
"Okay," began her teacher with a deep breath. "Lina, you may have noticed that Luke didnt come to school today." Linas first thought was one of relief at the fact that she was not in trouble. Immediately after that, she returned to her fear. This time not for herself, but for Him. She had noticed He didnt come to school today, but she hadnt thought anything of it. It wouldnt have surprised her to hear He skipped school for no reason, before He was brought up in this meeting. She had planned to call him after school, just to hear him gloat about how he did absolutely nothing. But they wouldnt mention him unless it was really important, or something was very wrong.
"Why would that be important?" Lina was fed up with masking her feelings. She could tell that fear and apprehension were burning in her eyes, but now she didnt care.
"Dear his parents found him this morning and "
"No! He wouldnt! He didnt do it! He wouldnt! He didnt do it! He promised me!" wailed Lina when the realization of where the sentence was going hit her.
"They found him dead this morning. There were multiple pill bottles on his bed."
"Oh God" murmured Lina and her father at the same time. Linas mind began to race. She had heard him talking about going out this way, and though she couldnt recall all the details, she did remember a common scenario described, something about twenty aspirin and a very dramatic scene for his parents to wake up to. Lina turned her attention back to her teacher.
"And I dont want to get into all the gruesome details, but we all feel it is important for you to know that he did commit suicide." With those words, Linas world began to swirl and tip like a carnival ride as her muscles gave out and she collapsed into her fathers arms. Lina looked around the room to see steady streams of tears running down everyones faces. Strangely enough, Lina could not cry. She felt detached and distant, as if traveling through a cloud or out of a dream.
Something stirred in Lina as she bolted upright and sprinted out of the room before anyone could grab her. She couldnt stand all of the pity and sorrow. She needed to be alone, away from these patronizing adults. She could hear her parents calling after her and her teachers saying to let her go. She ran right out of the building, paying the principals calls no mind. She ran towards Their Spot, across the fields and up the hill to the big oak tree. The tears blurred her vision and blinded her. She stumbled on a chunk of uprooted grass and fell face first into the thawing earth. Spring was approaching quickly and the ground was melting. Lina made an imprint in the soft mud and stopped fighting her feelings, letting them pour out as she kicked and screamed in angst. She sobbed as she flailed her limbs and sent spatters of mud in every direction. Her mother started the trek across the field. This was a big sacrifice, for her mother was wearing her best suede shoes and her most expensive business suit. However, Lina was in no mood to appreciate it. At her first sense that her mother was approaching she once again bolted to Their Spot.
She reached it out of breath and panting. Her shirt was caked with mud and soaked with sweat. Once she reached her destination, she was dumbfounded as to why she had run there. It was once a peaceful place, but now it only inflicted more pain on her. Memories came flooding back in a rush. Their Song, Their Conversations, everything. Lina curled up into a vulnerable ball between two large roots. There she lay for two hours, fast asleep. She didnt even notice when her mother finally found her, although her mother did not wake her.
When she awoke, dusk was setting in. Her mothers cell phone lay nearby with a note taped to it. The note was written in her mothers curly feminine script. It said:
My dear,
Please call when you awake. I found you asleep and decided it was in your best interest to let you stay that way. If you do not wake and call before 5:30 I will be calling you. Dear, please come home and let us help you.
Lovingly,
Mother
For some reason the note made Lina want to cry all over again. She phoned home and said she would return soon. Her father offered to come pick her up, but Lina opted for what she hoped would be a soothing walk.
Going home was a quiet time for Lina. She was very calm, even with the whirlwind of events she was facing. The walk home was a type of memorial of Him. She was beginning the mourning process, slowly but surely. Visions of Him wafted in and out of her head. She debated about speaking at the funeral. She was one of the best people to do so, as she had been so close to him, and his parents had had no idea what he had been like, yet she did not know if she would be able to endure the funeral process alone. Hell, she wasnt even sure she was invited to the funeral.
What would she say? She couldnt lie, or even barely inflate the truth. She would have to mention what a good friend He was. And how smart He was, even though everyone always underestimated Him. Tears began to run over the brim of her eyes as she thought of the many late-night philosophical conversations they had had about God, religion, America, life, and everything in general. He had taught her so much and shown her a totally new way to think, without even trying. He could always brighten her day with one word, and when she was restless He could find the perfect things to say to put her at rest and to sleep. Although their relationship was completely platonic, they were just as close as a married couple; possibly even more so. He was her other half, maybe even her soul mate. At that revelation, her entire precarious emotional balance crumbled. It became a burden to continue trudging towards home. Her leaden feet resisted the action of putting one in front of the other. Lina gave herself up to habit, letting her subconscious take over. She arrived home just after dark. She quietly unlatched the door and slipped inside. She saw her backpack on the landing. Her parents must have brought it home for her, in hopes schoolwork would provide a way to take her mind off of her depression. "Fat chance," thought Lina.
"Is that you dear?" her mother called out sympathetically.
"Yes, mother," Lina responded in a despairing tone as she continued up the plush stairs, quickly, so that she would not have to face her mothers empathy. Thankfully, her mother left her well enough alone. She reached her room and flopped on her bed with a despondent sigh. Even her room wasnt pain free. There were the pictures from their Riverside Amusement Park trip; one from their ride on the Cyclone roller coaster, and one from the side shop where they had dresses in 1920s attire. There were the candles from His gift to her on her birthday. They were placed strategically around the room to give off the smoothest blend of aromas. There was the shirt lying in the corner, waiting to be mended from the time He had ripped it while carrying her over his back, as a joke. The postcards He had sent from his vacation in Venice were tacked to the wall. He had sent one each day. The seashell earrings, another gift, lay on the dresser. She couldnt bear to open her journal and expel her feelings because He was often the subject of choice. Being in the place where she had once been most comfortable now was like Chinese water torture or being stuck in the middle of biological warfare. In desperation she screamed and choked out a sob as she turned her face into her pillow. Somehow even that smelled of Him. She wondered if she pushed hard enough she could suffocate herself. Then she remembered one of their last conversations.
"I dont want anyone to cry when I die," he had stated bluntly.
"Well, I wont be able to help that," she had replied.
"When I kill myself, no one should be depressed." She only now realized he had said "when" not "if." But she wouldnt do that to herself. She wouldnt show herself all the signs that she could have used to prevent his suicide. She had known people who had done that, and it ended up killing a part of them, too. She would not let that eat away at her, as hard as it could be.
When she had continued with the conversation, she heard herself say, "I dont know how I could live if you killed yourself."
"NO!" he had responded quickly. "I dont think I could bear it if you committed suicide because of me."
"You would be dead; you wouldnt know."
"I dont care. You dont need to be a statistic, too! Besides, you have promise for your life. You have people who care about you and believe in you. If you go too, it will be two wasted lives, only yours will have been in vain. Promise me you wont kill yourself. You have to promise."
It was ironic. She had made him take the same oath. They had both complied, only his promise was an empty one. Then another revelation came to her. She had stopped thinking of Luke as "Him" and started thinking of him as just him. He had always been "Him." "Luke," she said aloud, just as a baby would experiment with a newfound word. "Luke." She took a deep breath and sat up. When she stopped wondering at the relief of taking him off his pedestal, she encountered one last revelation. "Goodbye for a while, Luke," she said, for her promise would not be an empty one.
-The End-
