The Darkest Red

I went back to school within two weeks of Casey’s funeral. Everyone was understanding and comforting. None of them could really relate. They had never had a loved one die. I realized my peers and I led a very sheltered life. We weren’t introduced to drugs or alcohol. Even teen pregnancy was a very rare occurrence in our school.

I went to my classes and tried to act as normal as possible. I only needed a couple courses and then I could graduate.

After school I went straight home and did my homework as usual. The funny thing was, I couldn’t remember life before Casey, and I didn’t want to find out what life was like after losing her. That night I laid in my bed staring at the ceiling, just thinking about Casey. My pastor had told me when I was younger that people who committed suicide were not admitted into heaven. Neither were gays so I guess Casey was doubly shunned.

The following morning I complained about a headache and a stomachache to my mother and she called me off from school. As soon as she went off to work I hopped out of bed and got dressed in Casey’s favorite outfit for me to wear. Then I began the short walk to the cemetery.

I walked through the gates and made my way back to Casey’s grave. I sighed as I relived the memories of the funeral. I grabbed a length of rope out of the bad I had brought it along. It was good that Casey’s grave way a bit out of the way or I would never accomplish what I was about to do. I quickly scribbled a note to whoever would find me and tied the rope around a lower tree branch. I stood on a fairly large rock and slipped the noose around my neck.

“I love you Casey,” I whispered before slipping off the rock.