Why? That word runs in and out of my mind on an average of once every few minutes. I just want to understand. Why? Why did she do it? Why would my spunky, talented, freshman sister, kill herself? It makes no sense. I can hardly wrap my head around it, but reality is inevitable, regardless of how painful and confusing it is. I can’t deny the truth. She was depressed and I didn’t even know. My sister was unhappy enough to over drink and overdose. When did she even start drinking anyway? Why did she start? She was only fourteen. And the pills? Why did she have those? Why didn’t I know about it all? Why hadn’t I noticed how unhappy she was? Why, why, why?

I found her, pale and lifeless in her bed, a couple hours after getting home from the party. It was New Year’s Day. I thought she was just sleeping in. At 3 o’clock, I thought I should probably wake her up. I didn’t know she would never wake up again. I had expected to find her in a perpetual slumber. The image still haunts me. She’d died sometime during the night, then laid dead for half a day before anyone missed her. While I was out having a good time, my sister was committing suicide. I couldn’t feel more guilty. Why? Why wasn’t I there for her? Why hadn’t I sensed something was wrong? Why hadn’t I seen this coming? Why was I so oblivious? WHY?

I’m a partier. I like the buzz of alcohol. I like the attention. I like the girls. At least I did. I used to be the life of the party. The last few parties though, I’ve just been a party pooping dick, getting hammered and not remembering whether or not I had a good time. I think that was my goal. To forget. Memories I wish I could forget, faithfully return though, afterwards. They stick with me, always. So why did I go to those stupid parties? What have I accomplished? Nothing. That’s what. All I know is that today is Monday, and I have a killer hangover. Why? Because while everyone else was sobering up yesterday, I continued to drink. Why? Why did I do that? Stupid, stupid! Now I’m in worse shape than before. All that alcohol did not make the pain go away. Actually it created more pain, considering my head seems to have formed its own pounding heartbeat. Partying just isn’t enough anymore. I’m starting to wonder if it ever really was. Hmm. Why did I ever start partying anyway?

And why am I friends with these people? These airheads at my lunch table. Don’t they see how messed up I am? Don’t they see that all the partying and exaggerated ego is just a cover up for the screwed up loser I really am? It’s a cover for all the pain, confusion, and guilt… for everything in my life that downright sucks. Why can’t they imagine I actually feel something? Why do they expect me to just suck it up and be strong? Why do they think I’m okay? I’m not okay. I’m falling apart, and they think I’ve got it all together. God. Why are they so ignorant? Why can’t someone just stop and listen? Why can’t they ask me how I really am? I’m f***** up is how I am! Open your eyes people!

Things are even worse at home. The house is so eerily silent without her. My brother and me have been at odds a while, but my sister’s death has definitely made things worse. He doesn’t even bother insulting me anymore. He glares at me a lot. I think he blames me. I blame me too. He hates me. And I hate him for hating me. He’s my evil alter ego twin. We’re identical, but no one can tell anymore. Not since he got dreads, tattoos, multiple body piercings, and a bad attitude. Oh and let’s not forget the secret stash of weed. On the contrary, I’m the smart, popular, athlete. Dad’s proud of me, and disappointed in him. Maybe that’s why John hates me. We have nothing in common except for our love for the girl who is no longer alive. The valley that had separated us was now the Grand Canyon. My family was more divided than ever before. Why? Was this some kind of sick joke? Huh God? You hear me? I think you’re sick! Why do you keep taking what means most to me? Why do you hate me? Why are you screwing with me? WHY!

She didn’t even leave a note. Why wouldn’t she leave a note? Something, anything to say goodbye. Some kind of explanation. A clue. Something to ease the confusion. Didn’t she want us to understand? Why didn’t she stop and think of us? Why Kristen? Why? Why, why, WHY?

“Dude, you’re really concentrating hard on that sandwich.” My buddy Brad’s annoying voice is even more irritating when your world is spinning out of control, and crumbling all around you. He’s like a siren waking me from my sleep. P****.

Just shut up Brad! I’m not in the mood for your smart remarks. Don’t. Even. Start. With me.

“Just eat it.” Brad continues. “It’s not that profound. It’s not gonna give all the answers to life’s questions like Wikipedia, or grant you three wishes like a genie, or raise people from the dead like—

“Jesus Christ!” I snap, and chuck the sandwich at him. It falls apart in his lap. “You eat it! A**hole.”

And with that I walk away from that stupid table of air heads, surprised expressions, judgmental glances, and whispering. 'What’s his major malfunction?',they’re saying. Ignorant little-- ugh. I can’t stand them! Don’t they know anything? Don’t they care? Kristen’s been dead a month today!

I slump into an empty seat at an empty lunch table, and stare into space for lord knows how long. I imagine two knights in combat on the far white wall of the cafetorium. I imagine that one is me, and the other is Brad, and I’m kicking his sorry a**. Literally… in my mind. I’m ready to plunge my large and lustrous sword right into his— oh crap. I can’t see. Some chick’s face is in the way. What is she doing here? Have I seen her before? Those green eyes are quite something… I'd remember eyes like those... wouldn't I?

“Wow. That’s quite the scowl. I can leave if you like.” Says the girl sitting in front of me.

I frown in bewilderment. “Do I know you? If we met at the party Friday, don’t count on me to remember cuz—

“I knew Kristen.” She interrupts me. She looks down at her thin dainty hands. “One month today…”

I examine her features more closely. I vaguely remember her presence at the funeral. I was kind of drunk at the funeral, but I can’t deny familiarity in those features. And as I focus on them, I decide she’s pretty. Not sexy, but pretty. Her long, golden brown waves fall half way down her back, and her eyes, as I said, are very green and rather enchanting. She’s petite, and modestly dressed. She’s really not my type. I go for the tall, sexy bombshells. Shallow, I know.

“So are you a freshman?” I ask curiously. “Is that how you know her?

“No.” She says shaking her head. “I’m a grade below you.”

“A sophomore?”

She nods. “I knew Kristen through youth group.”

Youth group. Right. That thing Kristen went to every Friday, after school. Some good that did.

“Were you close?” I ask, my curiosity building. Green Eyes’ jaw tenses up. That tells me Kristen really did mean something to her.

“We didn’t hang out much outside of youth group, but…” she trails off.

“But what?” I ask, a little impatient.

“She confided in me.” Green Eyes finishes. Finally.

“Did she…” I tap my fingers on the table nervously. I’m not sure how to finish my question. “Did she talk to you about….” Suicide. Why Can’t I say it?

Green Eyes shakes her head in understanding. Her eyes look deeply sad. Morose. “It surprised me too.”

My eyes sting. My heart constricts. Neither of us says anything after that. She just silently eats her lunch, and offers me Cheetos without uttering word. I only eat a few. I don’t have much of an appetite. I’m not sure why she's still here, or why she approached me in the first place, but I’m strangely appreciative of her company. The sound of the bell brings me much disappointment, for it brings this all to an end. I would much rather sit in her quiet company, than enter a classroom fully of loud obnoxious people who have no idea hard this day is for me; how hard every day has been since this New Year started.

Before we go our separate ways, Green Eyes smiles at me, and I force a smile back. Something about her intrigues me, and I can’t take my eyes off her as she walks away, until she disappears into the mob of students rushing to their classes. Just like that she’s gone. I feel like maybe she was just a figment of my imagination, borne of my desperate need for someone to just understand. Or maybe she was an angel? I hope to see her again. Speak to her again. Or just be near her. Her presence is so… pacifying. And those eyes… Green Eyes.

Oh for flips sake! I don’t even know her name!