The Room 22

Write about someone you lost and how that lost redefines you.

The day A—’s friend hung himself in his room was the same day that L–hung herself in the showers at school. A— used to live in the Lab S—, where small dead flowers, ribbons and teddy bears hung from the ceiling.
At L—’s funeral, they open the casket. When her mother fell to the floor screaming, the priest played L–’s favorite pop song. The priest turn up the volume of the radio, as her mother screamed. The song could not burry the scream in the same way the oversized coats could not cover L–’s weight problem. In the same way, chewing gum could not really hide the smell of vomit in her hair.
When A— and I went for tea that week, we could not speak. We stared at each other, holding each other’s breaths, holding each other’s fingers. For weeks, I had the lingering thoughts, of wanting to know what she had used to hang herself. How had she done it? Why, then? How does one chose the exact time of their death? Did she hold a moment of regret before letting the rope pull on her neck?
February brings her back, brings A— back as well. A— is in Mexico now, with his new girlfriend. His new girlfriend that does not throw up, that did not know L—, but knew Alex’s friend. A—- is in Mexico with a piece of my breath, as I still hold part of his, in my throat. When my throat opens up, I choose to swallow my anxieties, those that killed L—, those that make me live.