XVI: Aftermath

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CHAPTER SIXTEENGenevieve

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CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Genevieve

I DID NOT GET HOME UNTIL 1 IN THE MORNING AFTER THE INCIDENT. All I remember doing when I got home was falling into my bed after throwing on some comfortable pyjamas. Mom wouldn't be home until later on today, after her shift at the hospital. I spent the morning staring out of my front window, processing everything that had happened in the past few days.

When you were caught up in it all, going with the plan, you didn't have much time to think about it all, or even contemplate what was happening. You just went along with it. The only thing you worried about was safety from moment to moment. Now, in the silence, with everyone gone, you had to sit with yourself, and accept the fact that this was real. Not a horror movie. Real life.

The letter Betty had given me had sat in my back for some time now. I looked over at my lilac satchel. Thrown carelessly down beside my wardrobe. I walked over to it and lifted it up, grabbing the envelope inside. My name had been scribbled down on the front in small handwriting. I opened it up gently, careful not to rip anything that was inside. I didn't know what the letter could say, or why Betty had even given it to me. I began to read:

Dear Genevieve,

It's Betty here. I'm sorry about the scribbly hand writing. I just wanted to say that I'm really grateful I saw you at the graveyard and I got a chance to talk to you. Barbara and I, well, we were never close growing up. Never the type of siblings who braided each other's hair or played board games. Now that she's gone, I kinda wished that we were. I think I failed her as a sister. I didn't know her that well. One thing though I happy about is the fact that she had you. You knew her, and you loved her. She had friends who knew about her interests and her passions and what she was scared of too. I'm currently on my way to New Jersey, but I'd quite like to write to you, Genevieve.  I want to learn about Barbara. I know this is a long shot, because I'm just some random person you met, but, I don't know, I think it would be really nice for us both to just have this space where we think of Barbara. You remember her, and I learn about her. Maybe it'll help us heal. I've left my address on the back of this letter as well as my number. If you don't want to write, I get it. You don't owe me anything.

Take care,

Betty.

I folded the letter back up, setting it down carefully on my cabinet. I looked over at the photo of Barb, Leela and I, wondering if this was what I wanted. If this was what I needed. Before I could think any more about it, I heard the front door open.

Mom.

I headed down the stairs as quickly as I could. It didn't matter how how you were. One would always need their mom. When I saw her, I put my arms around her and hugged her as tightly as I could.

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