It Goes There // Josh Dun + Twenty One Pilots

epilogue // don't look back in anger

Some people say that life isn't worth living and if you asked me at the end of my sophomore year, I would have probably agreed without much hesitation. After all, I had lost everything that was important to me on May 3rd, 2016. My brother, my friend, the two most important boys in my life; they were all gone.

Every day of my life, I still missed them, but the over the years, I learned to accept the fact that there was nothing I could do to change the outcome of that day. I guess you could say I matured, but not grown up.

I could still remember all the screams and the cracks like it was yesterday. I could remember all the questions police officers kept asking me about the shooting and my father's death as well. Luckily, I was cleared of any involvement although some people still think I could have done something to stop Garrett and I guess that was true. However, it was too late.

A few hours after I first woke up in the hospital, my mom came in. She didn't say a word; she just turned on the television and started watching the news coverage. I didn't have the energy to tell her that didn't want to hear about how terrible of a person Garrett was or how many people had died or been injured. It didn't matter anyway because that was definitely not what they were discussing.

I would remember the video that they kept showing for the rest of my life. The video from the school's security cameras showed Garrett, dressed in a long-sleeve, dark green, shirt and cargo shorts, slowly putting the gun up to his temple and blowing his brains out. I think some people even cheered when his body hit the ground.

Based on the note that he left behind for me, he didn't intend to hurt himself. That wasn't his plan. He had his mind set on the fact that the police would shoot him and it made me wonder if he committed suicide because he thought he killed me, the one person he wanted to keep safe.

Since the shooting happened with two weeks of school left, White Chapel cancelled all the remaining classes and gave the students the option on whether they wanted to come back next year. However, the graduation ceremony for the seniors still happened on schedule. Mrs. Howell honored all the victims even Garrett, which to everyone's dismay. She presented his diploma to his mother and named where he planned on attending college and what for.

Many people didn't think he deserved to be recognized, but Mrs. Howell insisted that he was also a victim. Not a victim to the shooting, but a victim to his own mind. She announced that starting next year there was going to be a display case in the main hallway with pictures of all the victims inside of it, kind of like a memorial.

To be fully honest, it was hard to walk to my locker everyday and see Lilac, Hugo, Josh, and Garrett's pictures staring back at me. All of them looked so happy, but I guess that was what was deceiving about pictures. They never really captured your true emotions.

Attending the funerals were the worst part. I felt the need to attend every funeral of every victim, including the ones that I didn't know. Watching all the families cry was heartbreaking. All of Josh's siblings were sobbing along with his mother and father. As soon as Jordan saw me, he pulled me into a bear hug and refused to let go.

I didn't even know what to say to his family besides I'm sorry. I couldn't bring their son back and believe me if I could, I would. I loved him truthfully and I wish I could of had the opportunity to tell him that. However, Jordan assured me that he already knew what I felt for him even if I didn't say it.

Jordan and I developed a close relationship after Josh's funeral. So close that he came to both Hugo's and Garrett's funerals to support me. I refused to let myself cry at any of the services. My grieving had to be done when I was alone.

After Josh's, I went home and sobbed until my body finally decided to sleep. Same with Hugo's and Garrett's. They all meant a lot to me and still seventeen years later, I sometimes found myself waking up in the middle of the night, crying over the fact that they were gone.