Sweet Dreams, Hannah

Is it considered wrong to be in love with someone who is dead? At least I think he is dead. Zachary disappeared not long after the accident, and no one has seen him since. It’s been a year since he left me. Well, left our town I guess. Some say he went crazy and ran away, others say he died in the hospital, and that his parents can vouch for that.
I wonder how much truth is to that though, being his parents have vanished as well. Sitting in my bedroom, I sighed as I continued to type on my computer. Ever since Zach….disappeared, ( I do not like to think of him as dead), I have been writing him emails, talking to him. In the beginning, when the pain of not being able to tell him how sorry I was for not helping became too much, I found out what his email address was online. That’s how I began talking to him. I smiled slightly as I wrapped up my most recent email.

To: zachattack23@hotmail.com
From: hannahbanana@gmail.com
Subject: 100%!

Zachary,
Can you believe that I got a one hundred percent on the English test we had today? Polonius dies, Zach! He gets killed by Hamlet, because he was hiding behind the tapestry in the room, spying on Hamlet and his mother’s conversation! How crazy is that! I am so excited to see what happens next. Who would have thought I would be able to delve so much into, and actually appreciate English literature?
Here is the part where I get emotional again, and I’m sorry, but I always have to. Zach, I miss you. I know we barely knew each other. The only time we ever interacted, was in English, when you gave me those circles. I know we never talked. I don’t even know what your voice sounds like. Even though I’d like to, I don’t need to. All I need is your smile.

Just your smile…

I miss you more than you know. You didn’t have to kill yourself, Zach. That’s what everyone is saying. That you rammed your car into that tree to make a statement. Well, it was one hell of a statement. IT MAKES NO SENSE TO ME. Why did you do it? Did you not understand that there are ALWAYS people that care about you?

I care about you…

Even though you probably did not know. I feel deprived of…something, now that you’re gone. I don’t want you to be gone. The empty seat behind me in English basically screams at me every day. Please come back, Zachary, I am a mess. My parents don’t understand. No one does. They wonder why I am so depressed, being I did not even know you. But I did know you. I knew those green eyes. They way you smiled when you handed me my daily circle in English class. I still have all of them, you know. I wish you would have gotten to tell me what they meant, though. I feel like such an idiot. I went on one of those psychic reading sites, to try and find out what they think circles mean. Symbolically, of course. I got a bunch of horse shit about everlasting life, and things of the sort. Religion is always dragged into everything. Is there a God, Zachary? Are you with him? If you are, please say you’re watching me.

I need you now. Please.

Talk to you again soon.

Sweet Dreams,
Hannah.

I clicked send.

Biting my lip while wiping the last of my tears, I sniffed and rubbed my eyes. I could hear the television downstairs. The news, to be specific. My parents were probably watching it. I could no longer watch the news, for every story brings back memories of that day. I cannot erase the image of Zachary’s broken up and bloody body being pulled from that car.
His car.

That he drove into a tree.

I began to cry again, so I walked over to my bedroom window and opened it. A breeze hit me in the face, caressed my skin, and it sent me into a flashback. In fact, I did hear Zach’s voice. Once, in class, when I did not turn around at first after he’d tapped me. I had been so overwhelmed lately that I’d forgotten about the daily routine.

“ Now, everyone please refer to your Hamlet books, and you will answer questions three through eight on the handout sheet.. Begin.” Mrs. Lightwood finished speaking, and I began working. However, I hadn’t noticed that someone was tapping my shoulder. I was too deep in thought about the play. That’s when I heard his voice. Felt his voice.

“Hannah, I have something for you.”
His voice was so close to my ear, that I felt his breath on the back of my neck. I turned around, but before I could see his face-..

I gasped as I was brought back into reality. Damn this. Damn everything. Why did he have to be dead?! I climbed angrily out onto my roof that was outside my window, and laid down, looking up at the stars. It was a chilly night, but I didn’t care. I was numb to all feeling, except sorrow. “Are you up there, Zach?” I asked the stars, concentrating on finding constellations. Sounding cheesy, I located my inner Lifetime movie self somewhere and spoke. “Give me a sign, please?” But the world never works that way. People don’t just get ‘signs’ from the dead, that their loved ones are listening. I closed my eyes and sighed, letting the cool breeze envelop me in a deep slumber.

The next morning, I awoke to the screaming of my mother. Exhaust filled my nose as I sat up, almost loosing my balance and rolling off of my roof. “HANNAH! What on earth are you doing out here?! And you just missed the bus!” she exclaimed. Well, that would explain the exhaust smell. “Whatever, Mom, I’ll just walk.” I said, climbing back into my room.
My skin was freezing, and my mother flinched back from touching me as she was helping me in the room. “Don’t you ever do that again. You’re so cold!” she said. I really did not want to listen to her nagging right now, so I tuned her out, letting her rant. When her voice finally ceased, I closed my door and leaned against it, letting out a breath.
I took a nice long shower, taking my time with getting ready. I really did not want to have to deal with school today.

School is so…different now. Zach didn’t have many friends in school. In fact, I don’t ever remember seeing him talk to anyone. Now, people that knew Zack ( Well, knew OF him, not actually KNEW him ), would just randomly start crying in class. Which inevitably led to whatever teacher it was, stopping the lesson and having a day to talk about death and feelings. What I don’t understand, is why people do this. They’re not allowed to be upset over this. Half of the people in the school picked on Zach on a daily basis. It killed me to watch it, but being the shy person I am, I would never stand up to anyone.

Not even for Zach.

That was my mistake.

Slamming my fist against the door in anger, I closed my eyes for a moment. When people in class got upset, I always had a mental rant.
‘Why are YOU upset?! You have no right! You didn’t even KNOW Zachary! You didn’t know what a great person he was! How beautiful his eyes were! How caring, compassionate, and-” The rants usually stopped when I noticed whoever I was thinking about glaring at me, because I was looking at them while my thoughts screamed. Honestly, I didn’t know half of those things to be true either, except for his eyes, but I never made fun of him.

Slipping on my shoes, I grabbed my school bag and took the stairs two at a time, just wanting to leave my house. My mother stopped me by gently touching my arm. “Hannah, you have mail.” she said, handing me a manila envelope. It looked like the ones that they use in school offices, for mail deliveries and such. However, my curiosity was non-existent. That is, until I noticed that the return address was missing. Also, the sender date was a year ago, two weeks before Zachary ran his car into the tree. My eyebrows knitted together in confusion, and my mother looked at me. “What is it, Hannah? Who sent it-..”, she asked trying to grab for the envelope. I dashed away quickly, falsely informing her as I moved- “Oh, it’s nothing mother! Just another college informational, you know, senior year!” I said, and laughed too un-convincingly. She pursed her lips, but let it go. I opened my front door and exited the prison that was my house. Closing my eyes and inhaling the crisp autumn air, I wrapped my scarf tighter around my neck and began walking towards school.

Casper Falls is a quaint little town, just outside of Boston, Massachusetts. It has that warm, family-like style living that just makes you want to move here. The various parks, strip-malls, and wide landscapes make for a beautiful place. However, the sound of tires screeching still seems echo through the streets like that day, reaching even the darkest of back-alleys. I hate it. I hate the fact that even the simplest things make me think of him. Of that day.

I can’t get it out of my mind, no matter how hard I try.

And it’s been over a year.
Which brings me back to the manila envelope that I’m clutching to my chest.

I wonder who it’s from?

I sign in late, and make my way to second period. The envelope sits carefully in my backpack, and I cannot wait to read it. I’m not getting my hopes up though. I won’t set myself up for letdown.

Third period couldn’t come quick enough. I’m going to ditch art class to open the envelope. I know what you’re thinking. Why can’t I just open it up now? Well, I am pretty concerned with my grades. I like to keep them nice and high, therefore, if I skip one of my classes to go read it, I will miss the lesson. However, my grades did decline for three months following the accident. They’re back to relatively normal now, but I’d like them to be better.

Picking up my math books, I stood up to leave the room when I was pushed back down by my shoulders. I looked up, so that I was staring into the face of none other than Pamela Roberts. I stifled a groan of disgust, and managed to role my eyes. Pamela is Charlie’s girlfriend. They have been dating for two years now, but that is irrelevant. The only thing that you need to know is that she is a bitch. Pam likes to control everything, like Charlie. Wonder why they make such a good match?

Can you guess who is also the head-cheerleader?

“I have a problem with you.” she spoke in her high pitched, bitch voice. She was one of those really preppy people, who’s voices seemed to naturally emphasize the letter ‘s’ with everything they say.

She hasn’t even spoken a word with ‘s’ yet, and I already have a headache.
“and what’s that?” I asked lamely. Remember how I said that I would never confront people? That I am shy? Well, that’s all a thing of the past. After the accident, I became a cold person. I isolated myself from others, and didn’t want to be talked to. So, people avoid me. Except for now of course.
You know what? Actually, I’m glad that she decided to approach me. I’ve been looking for an outlet for my emotions.

Hello, Pamela Roberts.

“You know Sandy? On the Cheerleading Squad?” she asked. I shrugged, uninterested. Her jaw clenched.
“She says that she saw you steal her hairbrush today, in the girls locker room. She needs it back, and since she is shy, and people aren’t intimidated by her, I decided to talk to you for her.”
Woah, that was a lot of ‘s’.
I smirked.
“What makes you think you intimidate me?” I asked. Students leaving the class stopped in their tracks, heads turning to assess the situation between Pam and I. Good, let them watch.
I’m going to knock this bitch on her ass.
“Well, there are a few things, actually. One, I’m the most popular girl in school.” Wrong. “Two, I am way way prettier than you.” With that nose job? Please..” And three, the big one here, I didn’t get little love notes every day from a suicidal maniac last ye-”
Big mistake.
My fist went flying before I could even control it. My knuckles connected so hard with her nose, that I felt it breaking underneath my touch. She screamed and went flying backwards into a desk, while her dumb friends scrambled to catch her. She looked up at me, fuming, covering her bleeding nose. “You…..you…..bitch!” she yelled. I was just standing there, rubbing my hand. Picking up my bag again, and my books, I left the classroom and open-mouthed classmates behind.
Upon reaching the girls bathroom, I simultaneously pulled out the envelope from my back-pack. I strolled down to the very last stall on the left, and locked it behind me. I put the toilet bowl lid down, and sat on top of it.
My hands were shaking.
Why does this feel like I am holding the rest of my life in my hands?
Maybe I’m just overreacting.
I tore the seal open, and took a deep breath.
My heart stopped completely.
The soft aroma emanating from the contents of the envelope, must have resulted from them being sprayed with , or around cologne.
Zachary wore this cologne. I remember, because I could smell it when he walked past me to his seat.
I could feel myself beginning to sweat. This was all too much for me.
Sliding the paper contents out of the envelope, I bit my lip hard. At the top of what I assumed was a hand-written letter, what stared me in the face made my breathing falter.
'Hannah'
I gasped out softly, holding a hand to my mouth. Apparently, someone had come into the bathroom a short while after I had, because a voice spoke. “Ew, creep!” she exclaimed, and ran out. Apparently, she figured that my gasping was result of some other…inappropriate antics. I rolled my eyes, and read the document.

I had to read it a total of five times, before I could fully comprehend the text. I knew that it was Zach’s handwriting. Whenever we would write essays, since he sat behind me, I would always sneak a peak at his paper as we passed them forward.
There was no mistake.
This was hand-written by Zachary.
I began reading for the sixth time, imagining his voice speaking the words aloud to me.
Chills ran down my spine.

‘Hannah,

Have you discovered the meaning of the circles yet? I thought you would have by now. I never underestimated you. You are
a brilliant young woman.
Which is why I am sending you this.
Now, you are probably confused as to my motives, so I am going to explain. As you very well know, Hannah, I am severely bullied in school. Well, at this point, I should probably be using the word ‘was’. Mostly because, I will be dead by the time you receive this.’

The tears threaten, but I keep reading.

‘I am going to kill myself, Hannah. Sorry, there I go again with present-tense. Okay, hold on, let me get my mindset into future-tense.’

You don’t have to do that, Zachary. Oh please, don’t kill yourself.

‘Alright, I’m good now. .
Do you think death will be painful, Hannah? Honestly, I’m kind of scared. Please don’t ever tell anyone that. They don’t need something else to jeer at me for…’

The paper is crinkled slightly after the dots. I run my finger over it gently. It seems as though water was dropped on that section of the letter.
Or tears.
My own slide down my cheeks as I continue. If only I had befriended this poor, lost, innocent young man.

‘Anyway, I need you to listen closely, please. Alright?’
Anything, Zachary…but what is it that you need?
‘Bullying is a serious problem, Hannah. For people like me, it begins in the early childhood years. Unfortunately, I didn’t have anyone to talk to. I think that might have helped, but I am too far gone now to decide if my suspicions are valid.’

Talking would help you, Zach!

‘ It needs to stop. Bullying needs to stop. It is what drives young kids, adolescents, and even adults to suicide. We feel as if there is no way out of the torment. The constant ridicule. Sometimes, words speak louder than actions, Hannah. Maybe you remember some of the things that happened in school? I’m not asking you to feel pity for me, I’m just wondering if you remember..’

I can’t help but feel like he is indirectly referring to that day in the hallway, when Charlie was beating on him and I just kept right on walking.
Damn it, Hannah!

‘ But this not only happens to me. There are millions of others who suffer from bullying every day. Imagine if we would all rise up against the bullies. They would be outnumbered! Hannah, think about it! If we all just pushed our egos to the side, and stopped worrying about what other people would think, or being picked on ourselves, bullying would be non-existent. Well, I lied. Maybe it would still exist, but it wouldn’t be as much of a problem if we stood up for others…
I’m getting a little off topic, I’m afraid. I’m going to try and wrap this up.
Hannah, inside the envelope you will find a key. This is a key to my house. The address is on one of the other sheets of paper. If my parents no longer live there, which I assumed they’ve probably moved out of town, due to what happened, than I give you permission to go there.
Hmm. You. In my house. I wonder how that could have felt. Maybe I should have tried to make friends myself. I should have invited you over.’

No, Zach. I should have invited you over.

“Assuming that they’re gone, they might have just picked up and left. My parents aren’t going to want anything to do with my things without me around, so most of it should still be there. Also enclosed, is the key to the janitors closet on the fourth floor of the school. Okay, I know we’re not allowed up there, but you will understand eventually.
You will be able to differentiate between the two keys, okay?
You are to go to my house first.
Woah.
Wait.
Do you even want to do this? I just went and figured that you would help me, no questions asked. How selfish of me. Hannah, you do not have to carry out any of said ’events’ if you don’t want to. You can just disregard this entire thing. You have that choice.’

Disregard this? Like you were disregarded your entire life, it seems? No way Zach, you’re not going to get rid of me that easily.

“Now, assuming that you’ve agreed to the Terms and Conditions…..Just kidding, there are none. But, assuming that you’ve said you’ll help.
Step one : Go to my house. Upon entering you should ascend the stairs. My room is the third door on the right. If everything is still in tact, head for my closet. On the top shelf, you will find a box. Take it, go home, and open it.
DO NOT OPEN THE BOX IN MY ROOM!
Once you’ve done this, read Step Two. But only after you’ve completed step one. If the box is not there, then go to the janitors closet next, okay?

Hannah. Your presence meant more to me than you know.
Thank you,
Zachary.'

Looking up from the papers in my hands, I let my tears fall freely. I knew what I had to do.

After school, I wasn’t going home.

I was going to Zachary’s house.