“Zac?” It was Taylor. He opened the door a crack, and poked his face in. “There’s somebody here for you. She says it’s important.” I sighed and nodded. A short, familiar, adolescent girl in khaki shorts and a tee shirt wandered in timidly, admiring the wallpaper. Taylor shut the door behind her. I stared at her, waiting for her to say something.
“Nice choice of colors on this room, I must say,” she said, her voice sounding shaky. I had to smile a bit. “My thoughts exactly.” She walked over to a couch in the corner of the room, that, somehow, I had never noticed. She fingered it for awhile, rubbing the fabric between her fingers. “Mind if I sit down?” I shook my head, unsure of who she was. She made me feel relaxed, somehow. I watched her carefully. She turned towards me, folding her hands in her lap. “I know you know what’s going on,” she said softly, looking into my eyes. I liked her. She had a pale complexion, and a very minor case of acne. She wasn’t beautiful. Her hair was stringy and looked almost uncombed, and it wasn’t the right color. I assumed she had dyed it herself. But, I enjoyed her. Her eyes were colored gray and intense. She didn’t take her eyes off me, not until I answered. I sat down on top of my dresser.
“No, I don’t.” She played with the ends of her hair. “You do. I know you do. She sent you a letter. I got a few of her diaries.” I felt sick. I knew exactly what she was talking about. I sucked in my breath. “God.” She directed her gaze to the floor. “Oh, God. Who are you?” The girl smiled faintly. “You know who I am. I met you in the hospital, remember? I’ve talked to you since then. I’m not a stranger.” I nodded, trying to absorb this. She was right. I knew exactly who she was.
“Amber.” She nodded. “Bingo.” She was trying not to cry. I couldn’t take this. I started towards the door. “Get…Just get out, okay? This is a really bad time.” Her eyes were watering. “You don’t understand. I’m not going anywhere.” I placed my hand on the knob. “Get out now, or I’ll call security.” She jumped to her feet. “I can’t. I…I need help. I can’t do this alone. I’m sorry to disturb you, but she needs you.” I shook my head. “Nobody needs my help. Leave me alone.” I walked back to my dresser, and sat there, feeling numb. “What did she write in that letter?” Her face was red with frustration. “Who? Who are we talking about, Amber? I don’t even know you. I don’t want you in here. I have too much on my mind.” Amber buried her head in her hands. “Why are you doing this? You were the only reason this happened to her! I hate you. I don’t know why she didn’t.” I stood up. “How do I know that you even knew her?” She stared at me, blankly. “She sent it in a manila envelope. Days before she…she gave me and our friend Cloe her diaries and things. There were some letters. She left me with the responsibilities that she had, like calling you on your birthday, and comforting her family. I was with her when she met you again. I was there at the hospital. I’ve been watching this, but I didn’t know. You did.” She glared at me. “I hate you. You should’ve known. And now, you won’t even help her. I hate you.” I was speechless. I reached into my pocket and pulled out the letter, just as she was getting ready to leave.
“Wait!” My voice cracked. I sounded weak and helpless. I gently unfolded the pieces of paper, and held them out before me. “This was it.” Amber snatched the paper from me. She sat back down on the couch, and read.
She lifted her hand to her face, trying to block the tears. She kept shaking her head, not wanting to believe it. Throughout the whole letter, she just shook her head. No.
“Oh my God…” She was done. She pressed the letter to her chest, and clutched it as she sobbed. I didn’t feel sorry for her. I just wanted her out of my room.
“So, you’re what, possessed now?” She asked. I glared at her. She was still shaking her head. “You’re ‘holding her existence’, huh? You. You were supposed to be her guardian angel. You killed her instead. And still, she loves you to death. She thinks you’ll do her spirit some honor or something. Why would you do this?” I found myself looking at her wrists now. “She promised me that she’d be a part of me. I’m her Window from Heaven. Did you read that?” I didn’t really believe that. I wanted to, but, somehow, I couldn’t. I only said that to spite Amber. It worked. She threw the papers at me. “She lied! She thought you would be. Why aren’t you? You’re nothing like her! She isn’t in you! Not at all!” I grabbed her. “You’re crazy. This may be my fault, but I didn’t know how bad this was! She promised me that she’d be okay.” Amber leaned in closer to me, and, for a moment, I thought that she was going to hug me. “Remember that when you think of how she promised you that you would be her window from Heaven.” She tore away from me then, and fled from the room, crying hysterically. I hated her. I didn’t even really know anything about her, and I hated her. She had come to accuse me of murdering her friend. It was then, as I sat alone in my dressing room, that something occurred to me.
“Amber!” She ran faster. I started after her. “Amber, stop!” Mom, who was wandering through the halls, saw the girl running and crying, and caught her in her arms. “Honey? What’s wrong? Are you alright?” Amber didn’t say anything. I put my hand on Amber’s shoulder, trying to get her to come with me. “It’s okay, Mom. I think I can handle this. Thanks.” Mom released her, handing her over to me. She practically fell into me. She was blinded by tears. Putting my arm around her, I escorted her back into my dressing room.
“You can’t just act all nice to me in front of your mother,” she growled, wiping her eyes. I shut the door behind us. “You’re so smart, aren’t you? What was I supposed to do? I had to get you back in here somehow.” Her gray, glassy eyes looked like small stones. “Why? You kept trying to kick me out.” She ran her hands through her hair. “You’re so weird. I don’t like your kind, Zac.” I shrugged. “Fine with me. I never asked you to like me. You’re the one who came here.” She sniffled. “What a mistake that was.” I bent down to pick up the scattered remains of Abby’s letter on the floor, making them into a perfect pile. “So, when’s the funeral?” My voice cracked on the word “funeral.” We were burying my best friend.
“When…” Amber cleared her throat. “Whenever they find the body, I guess.” My head snapped up. I dropped the papers. They scattered everywhere again. “What?” She picked at the aqua paint on the wall. “You heard me. Nobody’s found her yet. Abby…she’s missing.” I stomped my foot. “My God. Oh, God. Why didn’t anybody ever tell me?” Amber sighed. “That’s why I came here. I wanted to get clues. I want to know if she’s alive, or…” The air was pregnant with heavy silence. I gulped. “I needed help, I guess. I’m sorry. I’ve screwed everything up. I shouldn’t have come here. I’m such an idiot.” She wanted to be told that she wasn’t an idiot, and that she was doing the right thing. I could tell. Her eyes were pleading for that kind of comfort. I liked the way that I could unwrap her through her eyes. She was so vulnerable. I couldn’t help but smile a little. “You’re right. You shouldn’t have come.” Her face fell even more. She was disappointed in my response. “I’ll give you my phone number. You can call, if, you know…you decide to stop being a celebrity and be Abby’s friend again. Or, you could just burn it and use it to light up some of your weed, I don’t care.” I laughed at that. “I don’t smoke weed.” She shrugged, smirking. “See, I knew you weren’t that much of a celebrity, Zac Hanson.” I folded the piece of paper with her number on it and shoved it in my pocket, crumpling it up a bit. I watched her walk out of the room, trying to look like she was pulled together. I had to appreciate her effort. Whether we liked to admit it or not, we were both in the same boat. This was one shipwrecked boat.
