Unwritten Pages

“It started with a single 'absent' on the attendance list.”

No one pays attention to the name “Winter” being called.

No one pays attention when the teacher repeats her full name. “Winterlyn Evaline Lawly!” The chatter continues to fill up the room until it threatens to swallow everyone up. That's when the teacher shouts: “Quiet!”

The volume lowers until it's barely above a whisper. The teacher continues on with the attendance, marking 'absent' beside Winterlyn's name. The teacher continues the attendance and then starts the class.

A classroom full of at least twenty students, and no one notices.

No one at all.

No one.

The police looks up expectantly from the notepad which he is marking my words on with a pen. I had paused. Now I need to continue or he will get restless and annoyed.

“Yes?”

I take a breath and try not to get sucked in my memories. This is my...alibi. I guess. Kind of. Not exactly. I was not being framed...yet. Hopefully I will not be framed.

“No one noticed Winter missing,” I said carefully.

“Do you have anything to do with it?” The officer cuts the chase.

“What—no! No... I...” I trail off for the lack of anything to say. Me? Causing Winter's death? Impossible! If anything, I prevented it.

The officer gives me a look and I take another breath. I can't overreact. Even though she has left me traumatized. I cannot overreact. No matter what toll this is taking on me.

“Then continue your story,” the officer says simply. He looks tired and worn-out. I wonder briefly what has made him like this, but I don't ask.

“Winter... She had no bullies,” I said, thinking hard. She had no bullies, right? There was barely anyone who taunted her. No one at all. She did nothing to anyone. She didn't hurt anyone. She never spoke poorly of anyone. She barely swore or drew attention.

That was why no one had paid attention when she was absent from school for one day.

“Cut the chase, talk about the last time you saw her,” the officer says. I nod and rack my brain for that day.

How can I forget it?

“She was crying,” I state bluntly. The officer jerks his head up and seems interested for one moment. Maybe I have finally given them a lead.

“Do you know why...?”

I shrug. Honestly, I'm not sure.

“Continue.”

“So I was coming home from school. It was pouring, hard. If you were driving, it would be one of those times where you couldn't see anything on the windows. Most cars were pulled over, they were waiting for the rain to stop. Luckily, I had an umbrella, and I didn't have to wait on school ground until the rain stopped.

“My shoes were getting wet though. I kept my eyes on the ground while running. I hated wet shoes. So I was trying to get home as quick as possible. I wasn't watching what was going on in front of me, so I crashed straight into Winter.

“The sheer weight of me left her sprawled on the ground. She was wearing jeans and a shirt with a teddy bear picture on it. Weren't those the clothes she was found in? Anyway, I helped her up. She was dripping wet and she didn't have an umbrella. I offered to walk her home.

“But she shook her head and refused. I then insisted and said that she would get sick if she didn't. She started to...laugh.

“The irony, isn't it? But I think that was why she was laughing. I realized that she was laughing and crying at the same time. Her eyes were red and puffy. She had been crying. She stopped laughing and looked into my eyes. Then she...just shoved me and ran.

“I called after her and ran too. But she was fast. And I slipped too. By the time I got up, she was too far away to catch up to. I didn't even know where she was going. I didn't think...that it would be the last time I saw her. That wasn't possible...

“I thought she would come back to school the next day and tell me what she was crying over. I'm her best friend. But she was absent. No one cared. And then...the rest is history.”

I take a deep breath as I finish. I hadn't realize that I had held my breath for the last few sentences. I just can't get over the fact that she's suddenly...gone. Just. Like. That.

Just. Like. That.

Gone. Never coming back. Never returning. Disappeared. Left the world. Whatever you want to describe it as, Winter is simply gone.

I am too overwhelmed to even think that. It isn't possible. This is all a joke. But I know it isn't. Still, I feel like Winter is going to walk through the door any moment. It's one of those moments where your brain can't really believe it or process it.

It's one of those moments that seem impossible.

The sweetest person in your class—your friend, just...gone.

Gone. Gone. Gone.

I don't cry because I can't believe it. She has to come back.

The officer looks up from his notepad and nods. “You're done,” he says.

He gets up and takes me out of the cell. Good, I had felt like a prisoner in there. A criminal even. I'm lead out of the station and I can leave. I get in my car and turn on the engine. But I can't leave. My mind is too...scattered.

Winter. Gone. Winter. Gone. Winterlyn Evaline Lawly, gone. It sounds so absurd that I have to fight the urge to laugh. She can't be gone. Impossible!

The idea of Winter gone is almost laughable. Seeing as I was just about to laugh earlier. I gripped the steering wheel as I thought about her. Gone. Just...gone.

Impossible.

Suddenly, I hear Winter's voice singing out one of her favourite songs. I don't know why I hear that suddenly, I mean I'm not...severely depressed... So why am I hearing her sing? Am I obsessed now. I shake my head to clear it out of my head, but it keeps playing.

I realize that her voice is not in my head, but on my phone. I take it out of my pocket where I can hear the full blast of Winter's voice, singing out lyrics. So I'm not going crazy after all. The call is from one of Winter's friends—Arianna.

The reason why I have Winter's singing as my ring-tone is...I'm not sure why. It's a song she wrote. I told her to sing it, more like forced, actually. While she sang it, I recorded and put it online, much against her will.

Unfortunately, she didn't get famous off her own music. She was still...unnoticed.

Anyway, I turned it into my ring-tone and I haven't changed it yet. I know I should, because one day, I know I'm going to have some kind of breakdown while hearing her sing. Alive at the time, alive and...happy.



I find it strangely...foreshadowing. Did she know she was going to die? Was that why she wrote that line? I answer the call because I'm not sure if I can listen to a few more lines without over thinking things or breaking down. Right now, I try hard to pretend that she isn't gone. I'm not sure why, because I know that will cause twice the pain when I finally come to the conclusion that she is gone.

"Hello?"

"Hey! It's Ari! Is Winter there?"

I freeze for a moment, and then I remember: Arianna doesn't know. I don't want to give her details about it though. I'm sure someone will give it to her. I don't want to be the one.

"No."

"Oh. Do you know where she is?"

I don't answer. There's silence on the phone.

"You still there?"

"Uh," I stumbled to an excuse to get away. I can't possibly think of explaining Winter's situation to her friend. It will cause the person too much harm. Too much. Unless the friend is a sociopath. Though I'm pretty sure Arianna isn't a sociopath, but a normal person.

A normal person who will grieve and cry for their friend.

And I don't want to be the one to cause her that pain.

"I have to go," I say. "Maybe you can ask Winter's parents."

I end the call before I even hear Arianna's response. I feel a bit guilty for putting that pressure on her parents, but...I just don't want to hear Arianna cry.

I guess I'm just being selfish. I don't want to burden myself with guilt. But I feel even more guilty now that I left the burden on her parent's shoulders. They have enough to worry about already.

I sigh as I put my forehead against the steering wheel. I'm still at the police station. I don't feel like going home. It...just doesn't feel right.

I remember what I told the police. The last time I saw her. I'm sure that I won't forget that day. Or—the last time I heard from her.

I didn't tell the police this, but I talked to her after the rainy day. My phone had started to ring right after I got home and cleaned myself up. I asked her why she was crying, and she told me that it was nothing to worry about. She mentioned old memories and we reminisced in them.

It was...great talking to her. I love talking to her. It was easy and simple. I didn't have to hide anything. She had sounded so...happy and free when she was talking with me. It blew my mind about why she wanted to...leave.

Though she wasn't quite that happy the last time I saw her.

“Dammit,” I say quietly. I hit my head once against the steering wheel. I grip it tightly. Dammit, why did she have to go? Why? Why, why, why, why, why?

As I have once been told, why is the hardest question to answer.

To answer that, you would have to read between the lines and go into deeper meanings.

What lines? I wanted to shout, what lines are there? She left nothing behind!

My phone rings again. Winter's Melody, as I have come to think of it as. Before answering, I check the time.

It's six o'clock. I need to finish my homework. It almost makes me laugh to think of something as insignificant as homework when something more serious and significant needs attention.

It's my mother. I answer it. She's probably worried about what the police had asked me and if I was framed.

“Mom,” I say before she can say anything, “I'm absolutely fine.”

There's a sobbing noise over the phone. “Thank goodness! Oh thank goodness! I thought you would be put in jail!”

“Why would I be put in jail?” My voice sounds annoyed, even to myself.

“Well, it seems very suspicious—”

“Are you saying that it was my fault?” Anger is in my tone. I know I shouldn't speak like that to my mother, but I can't help it.

“No! Of course not! But you were one of the last people Winterlyn talked to before she died—”

“No I wasn't put in jail.” I cut her off before she even finishes the last sentence. I do not want to hear Winterlyn or death put in the same sentence. They do not exist in the same sentence.

“Thank goodness!” It's the third time she's said that. “And may I ask?”

“Yes?”

“Where are you now?”

“At the police station.”

“What? I thought they—”

“No. I mean, I just can't get myself to drive home.”

“Oh,” she says. Her voice is small. “You were her best friend.”

“Yes,” I state blandly. My voice is clear of emotion, though I know all that emotion is being kept in a cage deep inside me—it exists. One day, that cage will burst. But not soon, hopefully. Not soon. I still don't feel much sadness yet. It's as if my brain still believes that she's alive. And here. Living.

“Can you come home now?”

“Yes,” I say.

“Okay. Andrew, I'm expecting you to be home soon!” With that, she ends the call. I sigh. Winter's death doesn't seem to be taking a toll on her. It makes sense, because my mother wasn't that close to Winter. Whereas I was. Along with Arianna and Desiree—Winter's friends.

I put my phone back in my pocket and start the engine. I take a look back at the police's station. No one is coming out to shoo me. And no one seems to notice that I'm still here. I turn my eyes back on the road and start heading home.

After all, it all began with a single 'absent'.

Who knew that it was such a deadly word.

Literally.

I look in the side view mirror. My blue eyes stare back. My black hair is messy and I look like I've missed days of sleep.

Maybe her being gone really is killing me, it's just that I can't feel it...yet.