Prepsworth Academy

Chapter 92 - "The death of Lukas Kane."

2 weeks laterRoseI wasstanding outside of a courtroom, leaning my head against the wall and tryingnot to cry. That was the thing I seemed to be doing a lot: trying not to cry.Most of the time, I failed. The trial was well and truly over. It had beenrushed, thanks to Aiden's pushing and only had lasted one week, but it seemedendless. It was painful, watching friends and enemies alike stand up and givetheir testimony. The rushed story we had decided on at the beach was as closeto the truth as possible, save for the fact that Lukas and I had started thefire. We all claimed that Becca had started it herself and had blamed us. Itleft a bitter taste in my mouth, lying so brazenly, but each lie seemed to comeeasier than the last, and they all blurred into each other, an unbreakablecircle. The final day of the trial consisted of the inquiry into Lukas' death,and it was almost too painful to bear. After I had finished giving my mostlyfalse testimony, I had rushed outside. What I had said was close enough to the truth to hurt. I felt guilty.Guilty about my involvement in Lukas' death, guilty about lying at a trial,guilty about starting this entire series of events. I had broken just everymoral code I had, and a fair amount of laws too. My perfect life was fallingapart in front of everyone, and it made me want to scream. I couldn't look atanyone in the room – I could barely breathe when they were talking about Lukas,and about his life. Dissecting how he died, if there was any opportunity offoul play. "As if one of us had pushedhim!" I wanted to scream. But I didn't. I slid down against the wall,blinking away more tears and shaking like a leaf. I kept imagining Lukassitting next to me, what he'd say, what he'd do. I forgot far too easily thathe was dead. We'd be in the trial and I'd hear something funny, or sad, and I'dturn to Lukas, only to find that he wasn't there. It was the tiniest bit of reassurance thatBecca was finally being blamed for everything. She was being blamed for thefire, and for Lukas' death, but also for everything else she'd done.Incessantly and harsh abuse, both verbal and physical, although she preferredthe former. Finally, everyone was seeing the real Becca Williams, and she wasbeing punished for what she'd done. It scared me too, because I saw myself inBecca. In another world, I could Becca. My tyrant, my tormentor, my enemy.Everything I had hated, I'd almost become. I'd been close, but it had only beenLukas who had stopped me tumbling over the edge. And in return, I'd thrown himaway. Pushed him too far. Like I said, it was the smallest reassurance youcould imagine, like a tiny pebble standing against a tsunami. That was what itwas. The smallest bit of happiness against a wave of sadness and hatred. But itwas happiness all the same, and I knew, eventually, there'd be more pebbles ofhappiness, and they'd grow, until they could keep the wave caged, and still.But for now, I was drowning.When Iclosed my eyes, the same familiar thoughts flew into my brain. It was almostboring how much I thought about Lukas. It was ironic, a bitter sort of irony,that I was so obsessed with Lukas now that he was gone. It was a pity Icouldn't return the favour in real life. After obsessing over Lukas, and whathe'd done for two weeks straight, I felt as though I'd reached a firmconclusion. Thinking about him was easier if I broke down into short, sharpfacts, but that itself was difficult enough. Lukas had known that something badwould happen, and he had come to terms with the fact that he would be the oneto sacrifice something. I should have known that night on the beach, when I'dforgiven him. I'd thought I was giving him hope, that everything could returnto normal, or almost normalcy. But all I'd given him was a death sentence. Weall had. We'd hurt him, insulted him, pushed him away until he felt like he wasnothing. We hadn't known, of course. How could we have foreseen what hadhappened? I also knew that he hadn't done it to be a hero, to be worshipped asa selfless boy who'd sacrificed himself for nothing. There was a multitude ofreasons, one of which I found, almost by accident.I was sitting in acafé, surrounded by everyone and looking at an untouched bagel. Elle wasopposite me, frowning at my reluctance to eat. "What is it?" She asked,pointedly but softly. I let out a sigh and grimaced, all too familiar tearscoming to my eyes."I talked to him, thenight before he died. He was sitting in a tree on the cliff, looking over thebeach. He seemed so, I don't know. Somewhere in between angry and sad. And thelast words that he said were "You know, we're not the only ones on thisbeach."." I began, before shaking my head, dismissing the thought. There was ashocked silence at Lukas' quote, and Jake even spat out his water. I looked up,my gaze questioning. Everyone looked at each other curiously."Was this time aroundmidnight?" Emma asked, her face slightly pale. I nodded. "I was on the beachat midnight. I went cliff-jumping. With Harry." Emma explained. Harry nodded inagreement, and I noticed that they were sitting next to each other. Theymust've gotten back together, and I hadn't noticed or cared. I felt bad, andreminded myself to tease them about it later, when I wasn't feeling soimmeasurably sad."I was too." Dylanadded, before shooting a glance at Elle. Them too?"Millie and Natashaboth snuck out." Rae said, smirking, and Millie and Natasha both shot herglares. I could guess easily enough that they'd gone to talk to Lily and Tom,respectively. Everyone immediately looked to Amy and Jake, who looked back."We were on the beachtoo. How did we all manage to be at the beach and not see each other?" Jakeexclaimed. "Because we're allcompletely self absorbed and obsessed with our own relationships?" Harrysuggested, and was met with a bout of self-deprecating laughter. Everyone beganto laugh and make jokes, and their words blurred as I began to think. I knew,almost immediately, why Lukas had sacrificed himself. It was because he hadseen their love, and their happiness, and didn't want to take it from them. Buthe didn't have to. It didn't matter if Aiden had shown up a minute later, anhour later or not at all – it would have turned out better had we just donenothing. It was job to take down Becca, not his. It was my fight, my obsession,my choices. And he had paid the price.Ellefound me locked in a bathroom stall, my head against my knees, screaming untilmy throat was raw. She knocked hesitantly on the door, sounding apologetic."Theywant your final statement." She said, almost sounding emotionless, if it werenot for the pity tinging her voice. Both tones irritated me, but I reluctantlyunlocked the door. Elle eased my head from between my knees, lifting me up,letting me lean my weight on her. I both despised and liked her kindness, so Itolerated her wiping in the tears off my face so that I was halfway presentablefor court. Our lawyer would probably want her to keep thetears stained on my face, to present an image of a broken, innocent girl. Our lawyer, the esteemed Vera Winter, mother of Emma Winter, was the one of theobjects of my intense hatred, along with Becca and Aiden. She treated Lukas'death dispassionately, without a thought or care for anything but herself, andwinning the case. We had all been dressed in white, to show purity andinnocence, to further portray the image that we were nothing but helplessvictims, trapped in a fight that was not our own. She'd instructed meespecially to wear the white jumpsuit I'd worn the day Lukas died, insisting itwould make me an object of pity. It had brought me many pitying glances, andI'd done my best not to scream at the people giving me them. What did they knowabout loss? How could they ever live through what I had? That, amongst otherthings, was why I'd had to leave the courtroom. That, and the fact thatwhenever I looked down at the jumpsuit, I saw Lukas' blood staining it, astunning cherry red, and my hands shaking, desperately trying to stem theendless flow of blood from his body, screams tearing their way out of my mouthas his body turned lifeless. Whenever I put it on, which was for the week thetrial was occurring, I'd desperately wanted to cry or scream or vomit. Usuallyall three. At thethought of Lukas' body, the flashback that plagued me consistently, Ishuddered, not of my own volition. I felt bile rise in my throat and mybreathing rapidly increase and decrease, my head spinning. Elle stopped,leaning me against the wall, and fixed me with a determined gaze."Breathe,Rose. Breathe." She instructed me, and I forced myself to control my breathing,tears spilling over my cheeks once again and closing my eyes to ignore thatbout of dizziness that plagued me. When my breathing had almost returned tonormal, I opened my eyes to Elle's disapproving glare."Youhaven't eaten or slept since it happened, have you?" Elle asked sharply. Ididn't deign to answer, instead pointedly looking past her shoulder. Elledidn't flinch, raising an eyebrow."Fine.I've had coffee anyway. And I fell asleep once." I rasped, my voice weak andhoarse from all of the screaming. I didn't deign to mention that I hadn't goneto sleep voluntarily, that I had passed out, and that my sleep was justconstant nightmares, of Lukas dying in front of me and me being helpless, beingable to do nothing but scream. Sometimes, I was the one to kill him, plunging aknife into his chest or pushing him from a cliff. Those were the worstdreams. Elle narrowed her eyes."I canunderstand not falling asleep, but you need to try. Have you been taking theprescriptions that the doctor gave you?" Elle said, sympathy taking over hervoice once again. Ah, yes. The bottles of pills I'd been given by my doctor anda therapist. Various vitamin supplements, iron tablets and others of the sort,as well as anti-depressants and pain medication. I initially was hesitant, waryof everything that could happen, but I found myself needing the vitamins to getthe energy to even move, and using the anti-depressants to fight away the boutsof sadness. It never worked, but I wanted to keep trying, to see if I couldpull through. I wasn't sure what was wrong with me, but I knew it wasn'tsomething that could be fixed with meditation every morning and positivethinking, or any other solutions that had been half-heartedly offered. I noddedin reply to Elle, trying to still my shaking hands. As we approached thecourtroom, I smoothed back my hair and quickly wiped my eyes, trying to gatherall of my courage. I was instructed to walk in, to take my place upon thewitness stand, and begin my closing statement. I briefly recapped the events that had occurred prior to Lukas' death,not for the first time that day, before beginning my "impassion plea", as acertain Mrs Winter had described it."Twoweeks ago, Lukas Kane was a living, breathing boy, with dreams and hopes forthe future ahead. He had friends, a girlfriend, a plan to buy a house, go touniversity and get a job. He had a spot on our school's soccer team, a highgrade, and was beloved by many students and teachers alike. Becca Williams,whether she knew it or not – tore that all away. She took away his life, and indoing so, she took away mine. She took away the kindness and innocence fromthis world, our world, and replaced it with darkness, and despair. Today, wenot only mourn the loss of a life, but the loss a friend, a partner, a son, abrother, a teammate, and a student. And with this knowledge, I tell you this. Ibelieve, without a doubt, that Becca Williams actions caused the death of LukasKane." I said, my voice ringing out across the courtroom, a mixture of strengthand despair. More tears came, ever so easily, but they were silent, lit up bythe sun. The thing about the speech was that – I believed it. Becca Williamshad caused Lukas' death. But I had too.