Prepsworth Academy

Chapter 93 - "Wounds heal."

AmyBeccaWilliams was sentences to six months in prison, and five hundred hours ofcommunity service to complete. She was promptly expelled from SydneyUniversity, and her name was erased from Prepsworth Academy history. When thejudge announced the sentence, I suppose the camera's and press set up thereexpected us to scream and shout, and jump around for joy, happy that our friendwas getting avenged. We didn't move, except for unceremoniously exiting, aftereveryone else. Why should we celebrate when we had lost so much, when our liveshad been stained forever? When we had trapped ourselves so irreversibly into aweb of lies, into a constant, ever-ending game of cat and mouse. We wouldforget it, as would everyone else. Eventually. People would pick up a newspaperemblazoned with the words "Shocking death of Sydney socialite's son!", flickthrough it, before putting it down and forgetting that it ever happened. Forus, it would be a bit more difficult, but one day, five, ten, fifteen, twentyyears into the future, we'd be doing something, happy and oblivious, and thememory would hit us, and we'd break all over again. Thefuneral was right after the last day of the trial, when everyone wouldsupposedly be riding high on the wave of our success. Instead, the mood wassombre, the memory of Lukas still painstaking clear in everyone's minds. It washeld in an old church, although Lukas was not religious, as far as I knew, withlazy afternoon sunlight streaming in through the stain-glass windows andbouncing off other windows, beaming upon us in glowing colours. The woodenfloorboards and stone walls of the church were speckled by dust, but somethingabout it seemed almost magical. Until you saw the coffin. It was a dark oak,lined with plush white material, and had a shining brass trim. Mountains offlowers were set near it, all different colours. Roses, lilies, orchids andtulips alike spilled out of giant porcelain vases and dangled over the edge ofwooden chests, set up meticulously for this very purpose. Everything about it,from the colours to the sunlight to the flowers seemed to scream life. But itwas Lukas' dead body laid in the coffin, and everyone there, sitting in thechurch, was dressed in black. The church was massive, large enough it fithundreds of people in the pews, which too were decorated with flowers. All ofYear Twelve from Prepsworth was there, as well as Lukas' family and otherfriends, as well as a few select others. Even with so many there, the churchhad a quiet, ruminative, peaceful sort of atmosphere. Everyone who had been there when Lukas diedwas sitting in the front row, opposite Lukas' family, with the exception ofRae, Natasha and Millie, who were seated a few rows back, and Matthew andBecca, who, unsurprisingly, had not been invited. I wondered if, before hedied, Lukas had planned to have a different sort of ceremony here. A weddingceremony, where he married Rose, and everyone would stand and clap and cry andlaugh. But it didn't matter. It was still too late. Lukas' parents both made a speech, as did afew of his closest friends. They spoke of Lukas' bravery, his wits, hissometimes cruel sense of humour and his charm. Almost all of the guests cried,at some point or the either. Not a full on breakdown, but a few tears slippeddown their cheeks, almost out of respect. I wondered if they would cry for theboy who had used me, blackmailed Rose, and drive everyone to such hatred ofhim. I wondered if the only reason I wasn't crying was because I didn't want itto be true. I didn't want Lukas to have died. All of the things everyone wassaying about him was true. He was brave, smart, in a way, and, beforeeverything had collapsed, been coldly hilarious and fairly charming. I hatedhim, but he was still my friend, and it was a cruel kind of irony that it hadtaken him to die for me to realise it. Finally, it was time for Rose to makethe final speech. I saw her, at the end of our pew, stand slowly, her handsclenched together to stop them from shaking. She stood in the centre of theraised floor, dressed in her black dress that had always been her favourite,and, therefore, Lukas' favourite. She unfolded a creased piece of paper andstretched it out in front of her, and, without bothering to look at it, shebegan to read in a shaky voice."LukasKane." She began, before her voice wobbled and her eyes scrunched tight, tearsslipping down her already tear-stained."LukasKane –" She began again, before breaking off. She threw the creased piece ofpaper away and took a deep breath."I wasnever prepared for this. I never thought this would happen. This was neversupposed to happen." Rose said, her hands shaking even more."Peoplekeep on telling me that things will get better, that there's always an upside,a light at the end of the tunnel. One day, people will tell me to get over it,that it's been long enough already. Well, to all those people telling me thosethings, I ask you this. Put yourself in my place. Watch the one person you lovedie, knowing that you could have stopped it. Knowing that it should have beenyou. And then tell me these things, patronise me, say as many insignificantnothings as you want.I supposeI should be angry. I sound angry, but I'm not. I really, really wish I was. Iwish I could feel something other than this sadness. Soul crushing sadness,where I can't breathe or move. Anger would cut through the pain, but for now,it's just endless waves of it."For amoment, I thought I saw the old Rose shining through, just a hint of her fight,her bitter sarcasm, but then it was gone, and Rose was shattered once more. AsI looked around, no one was moving. There were tears, but not at Rose's speech,at Lukas' death. Some people looked disapproving, others just confused, drawingtheir eyebrows together. Rose was being too honest, her words not nearly aseloquent or composed or beautiful as would be expected of her, the youngsocialite. The perfect daughter. Rose noticed this, looking at everyone'sfaces, and threw her head back and laughed, a bitter, pealing laugh that echoedthroughout the church."If Lukaswere here, I know what he'd do. He'd laugh at you, at your faces, your sneers.He'd despise you, and you'd love him all the same, and he would find thatabsolutely hilarious. I would too. But here's the thing: He's not here. So now,I'm not laughing or smiling or doing whatever dumb thing you expect me to do. It mightbe Becca William's fault that he's not here, and it might be mine. And do youknow what? It's yours too. All of your expectations, all of your judgement,weighing down on Becca Williams, on all of us, until we have no choice but toturn into monsters. And that might just be the funniest thing of all." Rose exclaimed, her eyes cold, her lipsstretched into a hysterical smile. Rose stepped down the steps leading from theelevated stage to the floor, walking through the pews and choking back tears,before pushing open and doors and walking away. The rest of the audience wasleft sitting shocked and confused. Only the other Year Twelves were smiling orlaughing at the snub, and even then it was still sad, Rose's words ringing ineveryone's ears. And then, without question, without pause, without sound, Istood up, slipped out of my seat stood at the end of the pew. Jake exited afterme, and I paused to take his hand, before we started walking down the aisle,after Rose. I didn't need to look to know that the rest of us were followingRose as well. We all walked down, our heads held high, our expressions amixture of bitterness, anger and sadness. With our expressions, there wasdefiance, our eyes glittering. We were in pain, and we would not hide it. Andso we, the elite, the best of Prepsworth Academy walked out of the church,following Rose and not daring to look anywhere but in front of us. I sucked ina breath, knowing there would be mutters of anger and dissent. There would beno going back from this, no redeeming Rose, no redeeming us, in their eyes atleast, but maybe that was a good thing. Besides, Rose was right about onething. Lukas would've loved Rose's speech, and just that small thought made mesmile as I walked out of the dark and crowded church and into the sunlight.JakeAfter ourwalk-out, Lukas' parents had ordered every else to go, seething with anger. Asthey poured out of the hall, muttering about us; the young upstart brats thathad disrespected Lukas' memory. That only proved how little they cared about orknew Lukas. Lukas' parents walked out last, their faces emotionlessly only onceno one else was watching. I absent-mindedly wondered how different Lukawould've turned out if his parents had been caring, loving instead of cold,dismissive and uncaring. The confusedpastor watched them go, frowning, before turning to us."We'llwatch the rest of the funeral, if you'll allow it." Amy said lightly. Thepastor nodded, ushering us back into the church. The rest of the Year Twelveshad stayed, their own silent form of dissent. They smiled at our approach as wetook our seats, their eyes grave. Maybe Prepsworth was changing, maybe timeswere changing, and all the awful things that had happened might on day stop.Maybe, we could live life by our own rules. The restof the funeral, including the burial of Lukas' body, took around an hour, butwhen the rest of Year Twelve left, but the rest of us stayed, looking at theempty spot where Lukas' body had been, the flowers still neatly arranged aroundan empty space. The hours bled into the evening, when the sunlight streamingthrough the window disappeared, turning into moonlight, shining bright and pureand setting the flowers glowing. Rain tapped against the window in cold, bittersheets, echoing through the church, the sound bouncing around the nooks andcrannies of the building like we ourselves were in the middle of a thunderstorm.We were invited to go to Lukas' grave to say goodbye, but it didn't seem rightin the bright sunlight when the day was so beautiful and sunny. Another part ofme thought that if I didn't go to his grave, then maybe he wouldn't be gone.The second I saw his gravestone, it would all be over and Lukas really would bedeadWhen Ifirst moved, standing up and holding a bunch of flowers that I had brought,everyone followed me, standing solemnly and sparing glances at the door. Mybreath shuddered, and I pushed the doors aside to step into the ceremony. Thesky was a cold grey, the rain harsh and cold yet refreshing against my face,and the graveyard was a maze of towering trees and tombstones, a touch of mistrolling through. The air smelt wet and clean, and I knew this was how Lukaswould want me to say goodbye.I made myway to Lukas' grave, winding through gravestones and trees. Lukas' grave waslocated next to a tall willow tree, stretching protectively over it. Carvedacross his polished, smooth gravestone were the words ""You know you're in lovewhen you can't fall asleep because reality is finally better than your dreams."– Dr. Seuss". Rose was standing, facing the grave with her heads buried in herhands. I walked forward, and everyone else hung back, sensing Rose's sadness."Whopicked the quote?" I asked quietly."You doyou think?" Rose replied."Lukas.""When hewas twelve. I remember talking to him about our families and death and otherdelightful topics, and he said "When Idie, I want "You know you're in love when you can't fall asleep because realityis finally better than your dreams." To be inscribed on my grave. It's a quoteby Dr. Seuss, you know. One day, I want to fall in love, and, if I ever do, Iwant that to be remembered. It's dumb, I know. Especially for me. And, if youtell anyone this I'll tell them aboutthe time you got scared by a cat. I just like it because, my parents would wantme to put some dumb meaningless quote about success on there or something, andsomething about love, said by Dr Seuss would be the last thing they'd want.It's like, my final act of rebellion. Dramatic, don't you think. And I amnothing if not dramatic." Rose recounted, her eyes shining with the memory. Icould easily imagine a young Lukas saying those exact words, rambling slightly,the way he did when he was only with someone he could trust. The way he waswith me. And Rose. My throat closed up, and I felt tears spill down my cheeks.Whether I liked it or not, Rose was my last connection to Lukas, and the personI had most in common with. "I likedyour speech." I said earnestly, trying to change the subject. Rose snorted, abit of her old humour surfacing."It was atrain wreck." Rose said."It wasperfect." I challenged, and Rose smiled,just as everyone else approached. Rose and I stepped back, until we were in aline facing Lukas' grave. I took the bouquet of roses out from behind my back,their petals darkened and drooping down because the rain. I stepped forward,placing the bouquet in the middle of the grave, on the fresh dirt. One by one,everyone else stepped forward, placing various flowers and trinkets on thegrave, until it was bursting with colour. The air was quiet and still, the onlysound the rain dripping off our faces and onto the ground. Raindrops ploppedonto the smooth surface of the gravestone, sending water running down it'ssurface. I reached for Amy's hand, not wanting to fall apart completely. On theother side of me, I offered my hand to Rose. She didn't have to be alone, notnow. Rose took my hand, shaking slightly, and I closed my eyes, not wanting toface the world, hearing the patter of the rain falling around me and Amy andRose's constant, steady breaths. Memories flashed through my head; Lukas and Iwinning our first soccer game for Prepsworth, cheering and celebrating in therain, Lukas and I at the first school dance, laughing and making jokes thewhole time, Lukas and I on school camp, staying up the entire night and runningout into the forest. Lukas and I on the last day of the summer before Year Ninestarted, staging a massive watertight with the rest of the year and teaming upagainst everyone else. That was how it used to be: us against the world,fighting and laughing and everything in between. Even when Jake was the king ofthe school, we were. It was then that I desperately wanted Lukas to be here, tocome back and be with us, to finish his last year of school and go on to livehis life. I wanted us, in the future, to meet up one day, and talk about ourlives, and laugh over old memories. I still wanted it to be us against theworld, no matter what happened. But now it never would be. It waswith that thought that I opened my eyes, looking at Lukas' name engraved on itand well and truly started to cry. It shouldn't have ended like this, witheverything coming between us. It hurt me more than I could imagine, more thanit did when Amy left me, or hated me. I loved Amy, but losing Lukas – that waslike losing my childhood, losing all of the memories that I had loved. And Icouldn't ever go back to him, and tell him I was sorry, and then everythingwould be alright again. That was the worst part. I couldn't talk to him when Iwas sad, or I would turn to him to make a joke, and he wouldn't be there. Nomatter how much we'd fallen apart in the last term – if he had just waited, ifhe had just lived, then we could've made up, and been friends again. And itwould be back to us against the world, talking and laughing over the dumbestthings. I blinked away my tears, blinked away the memories, and took a stepforward, brushing my finger against the gravestone."GoodbyeLukas." I whispered, taking a shaky breath, before walking away, not botheringto blink away my tears. Amy saw my face and stepped forward, taking my hand."It'sgoing to be okay." She whispered. I nodded, looking away from Lukas' grave."Yourbracelet!" I exclaimed quietly, looking at Amy's wrist. Instead of her braceletthere, there was just a empty space, along with the scar on her wrist."Idecided I didn't want to make sacrifices like Lukas did. And, I don't need itanymore. I can be strong without it." Amy explained. I touched her scar,frowning."Besides,wounds heal." Amy added quietly, wrapping me in a hug. Amy was right. Woundsdid heal. And one day, mine would too.