Along came Avery

4 9 . h e r s i d e o f t h e s t o r y

With a deep sigh, I leave the box on my desk along with the envelopes, and then throw myself onto my bed.

I need a break. I need a break.

After hearing all that I needed to from Mrs Anaese Jones, we had a bit of lunch over her showing me pictures of her twins. They look exactly like Michaela when she was younger. Especially the girl. I think Michaela would have been a proud sister, and an overprotective one too.

I'm thinking I could take a small nap as I decide whether or not to go to school, but curiosity arises deep in my chest. I get up to a sitting position, rubbing my neck as I eye the box. After making up my mind, I get up and take the box, sliding the envelopes along, and then settle them on my bed. My eyes manoeuvre between the envelopes and the box, and quickly, my hands lift up the lid, slowly placing it one side as I eye the items.

My heart literally swells; the first thing I pick up is a small Bratz keychain I gave her. She still keep it and I lost mine. I examine it a bit before putting it down, and then picking up a picture frame. My eyes start stinging; it's a picture of the two of us. Both in big bikinis with nothing to show. There I am grinning, even despite remembering that day — Avery pushed me into the pool and I was drowning, all because he hated me and I hated him. But look at us two, side by side, grinning at the camera.

The next thing I pick up is a small diary. I randomly flip through the pages, remembering her neat handwriting and the cute hearts she would put on each page. Even some of her doodles with different colours is cute, I feel like ripping the pages out and framing them all. I wipe my eyes a bit.

There are a few items I see, to which I move my hand through, picking up a few and then eventually packing everything back in the box. Once closed, I lay on my back and wipe my eyes.

I thought I was over it. Over her. I thought I accepted she was gone, and that I no longer missed her as she quickly became a distant memory the last five and a half years. Yet look, here I am, crying at the vivid memory of her. I miss her so much, I just want to hug her one last time. I'm crying because of how she died.

My eyes squeeze shut and my stomach clenches, lips rolled in my mouth to stop any sound of pain slipping out. I've cried enough since then, but it feels like I'm crying for the first time again.

I just want her to be at peace, and I hope she has it, wherever she is.

After drying my face with my hands, and sniffing hard that my brain shakes a bit, I sit up straight and pick up the envelope. I examine it; it's partially sealed for the most part, but I can see it's been kept in the dark for some time.

I then peal the seal open, clearing my throat as my heart sinks to my gut. I'm partially anxious, nervous, but happy to receive this. What's in this envelope, I'm not sure exactly, but I am excited as I am nervous.

Once open, I lick my lips and pull it open, then see a bunch of papers in it. I turn the opening upside down and let the papers fall in my bed. I double check to make sure no more papers are inside, before putting it one side. My hand then manoeuvres over the papers, eager to pick up one and read. Most are plain white, but some are pink, yellow and even purple. Understandable, this is Michaela after all.

I pick up one pink one. I have to cringe at it; it's a mini letter she wrote to Avery. I don't know if she's given it to him or if it's one of those letters he would write but keep to herself. My lips press from grinning when I pick up another small letter.

She was so cliché.

I then pick up a bigger white paper, folded at least four times. I move the rest of the papers away so I could tuck my feet under my buttocks to sit. I unfold the page and take a deep breather, heart flattering when I see my name right at the top.