January 11th Story

Dear Friend,

My birthday is in three days, not counting today. I should be excited, but I'm not. All that's been on my mind is what happens five days later. One year ago, on January 11th, my close friend killed himself. My birthday is simply a reminder of what's coming. It'll even be an Aday at my school, just like it was last year. I'll have to go to ballroom team class without him and remember how happy we all were the period before we found out. The moment before it changed, before my world burned. Which means I'll have to sit in my theatre class just like last year without him sitting next to me and relive the moment my teacher told us.

It was just another day. I woke up, I went to school and I honestly don't remember anything until my second period, theatre. Nothing of consiquence happened that morning. During theatre class, I remember being a little sophmore, so happy and carefree and unaware of reality. My little bubble, so tender and untouched by pain. We were playing improve. I remember being up on stage with my friend, Marky, and we were pretending he was a police officer who'd just arrested the typical teenage punk, me! It wasn't too funny, but we were all loving it. We ran up and off stage, yelling freeze when we wanted to cut into the scene and change the whole plot with a new brillant idea! I was on stage again when Mr. Mancir walked in and asked us to take a seat. Grinning from ear to ear, we all plopped back into our chair, mine on the front row next to Lista, Marky behind me, and Grimes on my left. I was as happy as I ever remember being. I always was in that room. I fit in and we were a family. Jeremy included, a boy who'd had to transfer schools. He'd gone to jr. high with me, was on ballroom team with me, sat right behind me in drama before he left, and was just the closest thing I've ever had to a big brother. Marky was my little bro, Lista my sister and Grimes like my cousin. Literally, every person in that room could fit on my family chart.

Mancir stood in front of us, in a red polo shirt he always wore, shifting his weight back and forth to the balls of his feet and then back to his heels. His mouth started moving slighty and words flowed out that I didn't know would never leave my mind.

"I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but this morning, Jeremy Peterson, a former student of this class, was found in his house dead. It is believed he killed himself."

I leaned over to Lista, "He's kidding right?" A smug smile lightened on my face and of course he was joking. Yeah, it was a little heavy for a joke and kind of stupid, so I expected to turn around and see that Jeremy was visiting (he did that alot). He'd be standing in the back of the room laughing a little at Mancir's stupidity.
Lista didn't move. Mancir kept talking, but I didn't hear another word. Just as I was about to turn around to see Jeremy coming over for his visit, I made eye contact with Ellie, the T.A.

She was crying. And she was looking right at me with terror in her eyes. She already knew. And she was scarred for me, because she knew I was closer to him than anyone in that class. She was terrified for the moment I'd realize that it was actually...

And I knew. But I didn't believe. How could I?! Jeremy dead? Jeremy killed himself? No, never, I just saw him yesterday! He came back to visit and I hung out with him till my dad came to pick me up! I saw him get smashed up against the wall by his best friend, Sam, as they hugged each other. They hadn't seen each other in weeks! I'd never seen Jeremy so happy! He was there, and he hugged me and we talked and he looked at me with his alive eyes and clasped my hand in his as we spoke and he teased me and I teased him and it was real so no, he wasn't gone.

A million thoughts crashed in my brain and my heart began to panic as I stared down in my lap fighting burning tears for no apparent reason. The class seemed like a grave yard, quiet as a coffin. Mancir said something about the administration saying we could go down and talk with them if we need, that they were here for us and that we could leave class if we wanted to.

As soon as he shut up, I grabbed my bag, followed him to his office and asked if I could leave. Don't remember much after that, but I left my things on the counter and rushed into a stall, I believe the last one on the end.

I'd never cried harder. I hurt deep inside and every fiber of my being screamed in agony.There are no words to describe what happened in that stall, inside me. I ripped and torn, and no sound escaped my mouth as I wept uncontrollably. In my deepest sorrow, I didn't want anyone to know where I was. I never wanted to emerge. I laid on the floor, rocking back and forth, crying for relief and for an end. I can never relate all that happened in those few minutes alone. Something broke in me that would only continue to shatter. Finally, I came out. I don't remember why, but I saw Lista, with tears on her face, leaving a letter on my bag. She saw me and stayed there. I read it silently, gasping for air every few seconds.

Dear Amanda,
This may not be the best time, but Jeremy's in heaven now. If you ever need a hug, I'm here.
<3/Lista

I didn't hug her right then. I was afraid any contact would actually shatter my frame. I was frozen, but I moved out of the bathroom, taking my things with me and went to the drama room to get my jacket. I went to seminary where Emmie found me. She walked me to Bro. Moore's class. I reached the door. She asked if I knew Jeremy, which was obvious because my face has never been more swollen from weeping. I couldn't go in, so she walked with me around the building. I lost it. She held me while I screamed out in shock. People walked by but I couldn't control myself anymore. This was a pain I'd never forget. I've never felt anything so deep and so unbelieveably crushing. The weight of death squashed me and dear little Emmie struggled to keep me from sinking. I held on around her neck for a few minutes while student after unknowing student mornfully crept by. So many didn't know him. He wasn't popular, he was like me. He was a techie, I was in theatre. We're not well known, and we like it that way.

Eventually, somehow I ended up in my seat in a queit room. Bro. Moore, my favorite teacher, looked at me for a split second. When I needed him more than ever, he made eye contact and a look of utter fear swept his gaze away from my wounded, raw face. He allowed us to just talk about what we were feeling. The conversation went in an orderly fashion around the room. I was third. I don't remember what I said, and I'm sure no one understood me. I remember Cortt saying he'd wished he'd known him. He felt it was his job and he wished he could have had the chance. Another kid said that he knew we shouldn't bully people. Ironic, Jeremy didn't kill himself over bullying. He didn't know that though. He just assumed cause he'd been bullied.

After a nightmare of people confessing their over and over how they didn't know him and how they wish they had, I rushed from the room when the bell rang. No one spoke to me. It was obvious I would have crumbled if they'd said so much as, "I'm sorry."

Not sure what happened next, but I remember sitting in the back seat as Meg drove Mandy, another sophmore, home with a senior boy in the car. He came home with us. Somehow I got inside and ended up on my couch. Starring off into the emptiness Jeremy should have filled.

I don't remember the rest of the day very well. But I remember the next week seeing Sam walking down the hall carrying Jeremy's backpack with him and walking as if he was blind. Somehow he avoided crashing into people, but his eyes were blank. Beyond blank. Broken. Sam was a military guy. He was one of my idols, my big brothers. He was broken.

I saw Mandie, Jeremy's ex, surrounded by her friends and swollen faced with puffy red eyes. She was broken. The school was broken. Were we supposed to survive?


That's the story of January 11, 2012 at my school. We've survived this far. I'm still afraid that on the coming friday, I will experience loosing Jeremy again. I don't know if I can do this day twice.