Fantasia was sitting at her rain drenched window, tapping on the glass as droplets smacked it’s hard surface. Ruth sat in the corner, studying. There was never a more boring day than the day before one of Mr. Torson’s Science exams. Fantasia never studied, everything she had ever read or heard come out of the teachers mouth, she seemed to memorize. She rather be outside right now, finishing what needed to be finished as she had planned. However, it was raining. Ruth insisted that they study together, but that didn’t work out. Ruth was a busy-body. She was the hardest working kid in all her classes, and had a 4.0 average. So did Fantasia, but like I said earlier, she never studied.


Fantasia looked at the books sprawled out all around Ruth. There were tons of them. Stacked on top of each other, they formed a mountain of information.

“Why do you have so many books? I know you don’t need that many for the exam tomorrow!”

Ruth looked up from her studies. “ I was just learning as much as I can. You never know when this information can become useful.”

“Whatever.”

The rain kept pouring harder and harder. Fantasia was afraid that the glass would break from the stress falling water. Finally, she couldn’t take it any more. “I’m going outside to skate.” She declared as she stood up and pulled on her DCs. She pulled her black hair back into a ponytail, and draped her hoodie’s hood over her head. Ruth stared at her like she was crazy.

“Why?” It’s pouring rain. You could hurt yourself.” Fantasia draped in Ruth’s sad expression. She had gorgeous violet eyes and a very symmetrically lined face that all sobbed downward. She truly is a best friend for trying to keep Fantasia mildly sane.

“Well, that’s the point.”

Fantasia ran outside and through and wet grass. It didn’t much matter if her shoes got dirty now, considering all would soon be done with. She climbed to the ladder to the top of the ten foot half pipe and looked down into the mud. Yes, the drop was sure to finish her. The rain was seeping in through her warm outer shell and onto her cold skin. Fantasia waited for a shiver to pass and just kept staring. For these last moments, she thought about everything that had happened. She went back to about four months ago, when she saw her Dad leave in the pitch black of night. She saw her happy mom turn into the depressed form she is now. She saw all the pills lying out over the carpet, and her mother, dead beside them. She saw the coffin, and the empty seats at the dinner table. She saw her Dad laugh in a drunk state as she tried to reach him. She saw the knife covered with blood of her own. Fantasia pulled off her shell, and stared at her arms. The knife made long, clear strokes over her pale skin. She remembered the pain it took to make them so nice. Then, she heard Ruth. The poor girl was running towards her in nothing but a T-shirt and sweat pants in the pouring rain.

“Stop!” She cried.
“No. This has to be done.”

“No, it doesn’t. You can’t.” Fantasia shook her head and smiled. She was already to insane. She couldn’t hold the pressure anymore. Silently, she closed her eyes and dived off the side like she was diving into a pool. It felt great to fall through the air. It felt wonderful. Then, there was a smack. All was gone. She had done it.



~~~
*


Ruth stood along with all of the other somber faced people at the funeral. Blood- colored roses covered the grave of ashes in which the world’s Fantasia lay. Ruth had insisted that her friend’s body not be cremated, but that was what happened with suicide, unfortunately. Ruth had missed school for the past week, unable to talk herself into sitting alone at the lunch table or not being able to pass notes in English class. She was sure her teachers would understand. In fact, Ruth’s parents had decided to transfer her to a private school so she could start fresh, without Fantasia. Ruth didn’t want to do anything though, all she wanted was Fantasia. Ruth looked around at the rest of the procession, who was every shade of black in the world. There was Fantasia’s grandparents, aunts, uncles, and cousins. Fantasia had pointed them out and introduced Ruth to every single one of them at her mom’s funeral. Fantasia was such a strong girl, or so she made it seem. Ruth looked among the rest of the people and found them to be friends from school. Teachers were bunched together. Some stood with their students for comfort. Ruth looked deeper into the crowd and noticed the preps were actually there. Preps who didn’t care about Fantasia. They were all there, crying their little eyes out. Wow, who knew Fantasia would leave such a mark. Ruth looked around her again and realized she had missed quiet a lot of people. She had no idea who these people were, but then it hit her. Fantasia’s fan club came to the funeral. Yes, Fantasia had a fan club.

Fantasia was an author of teen fiction before she died. She wrote several books dealing with teen problems and kids just really loved them. Everyone loved them. She was a miracle worker, writing books that kids actually read. Ruth sucked in her breath and listened to the preacher pray and talk and yadda, yadda, yadda.

Nothing made sense anymore. A cloud draped over Ruth’s mind. She didn’t care about school, or tennis, or even poetry. She didn’t care about anyone anymore. Fantasia was her only comfort, and her only friend. Fantasia didn’t care when someone called her a loser. Fantasia just took it as a compliment, and left it like that. She seemed so strong. How did this happen? Where had Ruth missed the pain, and the hurt that was thrusted upon her dear friend’s shoulders. Obviously, it was Fantasia’s parents.

Those people didn’t respect her well enough. They didn’t love her. Her mother was so wound up in her own problems, that when she committed suicide herself, she probably didn’t even think about what would happen to Fantasia. Ruth simmered in anger, and a new crop of hot tears stung her eyes. Fantasia’s dad. What about him? He left her mom in the first place. He was to be of blame too. Everyone was to be of blame for this, or that’s how it seemed, in Ruth’s eyes.

The preacher said some more words of distant wisdom and praying, then he turned the whole entire microphone to us, her friends, family, and enemies.

The fan club was first. Two pony- tailed book worms went to the microphone and looked out onto the crowd.

“Hello.” said one of their quiet voices. “We are very sad about this utter misfortune. Fantasia Reynolds, was not just an author, but a guider. She helped many teens stop going through the misfortune that she was dealing with. Although we didn’t know it then, a lot of her books were based on her own experiences.”

The area went quiet and everybody seemed to all go off into a deep thought at the same time. Everyone stared downward into the green grass, thinking, and feeling guilty. The girls looked at the coffin in which the ashes lay, then, stepped back into the crowd. Ruth heard the sniffles of several noses and saw the averted eyes of many inspect the dirt around them.

The next ones to step up and share their thoughts were well, surprisingly, cheerleaders. They walked up with no bounce in their step. They weren’t wearing their uniforms either, but very expensive black dresses. It’s like all the life that was in these girls only yesterday melted away into nothingness. These girls, unless you saw them at their best, were no where near the usual looks of cheerleaders. One stood up to the microphone and calmly started to speak. “Fantasia was a hard headed, strong individual that didn’t back down when her name was ridiculed. Fantasia was the spirit of the school. She spoke like she wanted to. Her clothes were of her own choice, and she never followed a pattern. She was a special person. She was the real type of person. She was maybe, the only type of real person. Though most of us here never got to know her personally, we feel at a total loss for her sole, and hope that she is safe in heaven.” That was something really deep to come out of a cheerleader’s mouth. Maybe those girls weren’t so bad after all. The girls each placed a red rose over the coffin of ashes, and then they took their seats again.

Ruth watched the other people come up and speak, but she didn’t hear them at all. Some were teachers, and others were friends. An editor came up and described Fantasia’s works to the crowd. Ruth stopped paying attention after a while though. She looked around her at the other gravestones. They were so grey and cold, each one of then reading a person’s, that once lived, name. Ruth shuddered at the thought of Fantasia joining all of those bodies there, and looked away. The sky was a beautiful blue, but it was the color of tears. Ruth didn’t want to cry again. So she looked at the trees. They were tall, pine trees. The smelled like an air freshener and stretched to the heavens. Ruth wondered if Fantasia was in heaven or not. She was a good person, but she took her own life. Would GOD still accept her into his arms, or let her experience death? The poor sole was only fourteen.

Ruth looked up at the next speaker, and realized that it was the one person that had caused all of this heart ache to happen. It was Fantasia’s dad. Ruth hadn’t seen him in the crowd at all, so she was really surprised. The man was big and tall, with a black beard and a fine black suite. He stepped up to the microphone and spoke. “This girl that lies in this coffin was neglected by her parents. She loved both her mother and her father very much, she even said so. They treated her wrong, for they were always fighting and thinking about how angry they were at each other than taking care of their poor little girl. She grew up into greatness, writing books with extreme messages and always putting on a strong note when trying to talk to her dad. He was a terrible man. He never listened to anything she said. He just hugged his bottle, his only love. He was so under those days though that he missed his own ex- wife’s funeral. He didn’t care though, and even when his daughter tried to come through to him, he wouldn’t listen, until it was to late. She jumped off a skate ramp in her back yard when she was going insane. Her dad didn’t know till just a few days ago, and when he heard, he let go of that bottle. He, or I, caused my daughter, Fantasia’s death. I am sorry that I was to late to correct what I had done wrong. I am sorry, Fantasia.”

Ruth stared at him. He was to late. Ruth could never forgive him. Ruth could never forgive anyone, even herself. Ruth decided that she needed to speak.

The stand was higher up then Ruth had imagined it. She looked out at every solemn faced person. None of them would make eye contact with her. She began: “Fantasia did this to herself. Fantasia ended her own life because she couldn’t take it anymore. She was dieing on the inside. She was hurting from her parents. She was hurting from everything. She always saw the significance in the little things. The people sitting on the sidewalk were always sitting there, smoking their joints. It hurt Fantasia to see them throw their life away. She wrote to try and soothe her pain she saw in the smoking. She wrote wonderful books about kids going through the wrong choices. She got mad when others just threw their life away by getting pregnant. She wrote a book about that too. She was hoping to stop those horrible things. She was hoping to end everything. She never once though, wrote a book about suicide.”

“Suicide always disgusted her so much. It was dirty to her. She always believed it was not worth writing about. She didn’t feel for those people who killed themselves. They were weak and selfish. She always told me that they had a life that they weren’t happy with. They felt sorry for themselves. Then, her mom committed suicide. She didn’t understand it. Her mom was a beautiful woman, who cared about everyone so dearly. She didn’t understand the problem. Everything started to spin in her mind. She didn’t know things anymore. She was always losing focus. She didn’t care about things. Fantasia was trapped in her own little bubble the whole time. She couldn’t break it. She did the one thing that didn’t make her feel sorry: She killed herself. Fantasia had no excuse to kill herself. She did it though. We can think up many excuses and many people to blame. I know that I have hated everyone around here for the last hour, and no one seems to get it. Fantasia killed herself to make you understand. She wanted you to know that there is no excuse for committing suicide. She couldn’t write about it though. The message would never sink in. She had to do something so drastic, just so everyone could know. Don’t commit suicide, because you were put on this earth to live, just as Fantasia thought she was here to die. Fantasia didn’t want anyone to feel sorry for her. She wanted you to know the cold, hard truth.” Ruth stepped off the stand, and everyone followed her with their eyes as she went back to her parents. There is no excuse for suicide, for anyone, no matter how bad your life is. That’s the message that had to get out. Ruth was happy, and smiled on this dismal day. Ruth shook her head and smiled, because she understood for the first time, what those words she said really meant. Ruth was happy, because Fantasia, in doing a bad thing, had saved the lives of many in the future, just as she had always done.



Fantasia was able to stop things by writing, but you can too. Find a way to help. Find a way to keep the people on this earth alive.