bullying the bullies | aspir | ✓

13 | tell

13

t e l l

The events that occurred right after I spotted Hazelle in the cubicle are still a blur. School authorities were called, a paramedic rushed in, Hazelle's body was taken out on a stretcher, girls and boys were jostling inside the restroom, trying to catch a glimpse.

The only thing I can clearly remember is how my guilt was almost choking me, and how breathless I felt.

The students were sent home for the day, and school was out for a week.

However, the end of the week long holiday coincided with the beginning of the Christmas vacation, and that nearly meant no school for a month. And also, no sleep. None at all, and if I were to ever, rarely fall asleep, Hazelle's body would swim into vision, and I'd wake up feeling sweaty, sticky and out of breath.

I'm not going to lie, and say that I liked Hazelle, because genuinely I didn't. It's the guilt of being responsible for her death that really chokes me. I know that I'm not the only one responsible, but even just being a part of it, gives me shudders. I feel disgusted at myself.

The teachers never really interrogated any of us,because her parents were not in pursuit of pressing charges. To be very honest, it actually looked like they thought it was partly Hazelle's fault. But it doesn't take a cop to let me know that I'm guilty of a crime. Murder.

Murder. I murdered her. I, Lyra Collins, am a cold blooded murderer. And before I can even think rationally, I'm on my feet and I've hurled my vase onto my mirror. "You murderer!" I scream, at the livid, feral creature staring at me from behind the mirror. "You killed her! You took away her life, you hypocrite!"

And then the door of my bedroom opens up, and my mom walks in with a glass of warm milk. She slowly peers around the room, her eyes widening at the shards of the vase. However, she takes a deep breath, and sets down the tray.

"Lyra, dear." She takes a step forward, and before I know it, I'm in her arms, sobbing like a baby. "Shhh, baby. You're okay," she strokes my back, and presses a kiss to my forehead. "We've told you it isn't your fault, haven't we?"

That's a lie.

She hands me my milk, along with my sleeping tablets. This has been the routine for all these days, and somehow, even theses tablets couldn't give me a dreamless sleep.

I drink down the milk, spluttering out some of it, mid-sob. Once I've popped in my tablet as well, I sit on my bed, waiting for it to sink in.

"Liam came around in the morning," she says, as she takes the glass of milk and places it back onto the tray. I imagine how bummed he must have been, to come here, and leave right away. [gif] "He also said you were avoiding all his calls, Lyra. When are you going to talk to him?" She asks. "You might feel better."

I ignore her and fall back into the bed. I stare at the ceiling as I consider what she just said.

Even thinking about Liam, brings back all the bitter memories. We met under the circumstances of bullying the bullies. And it's only now that I realize how much of a grave mistake I made. I finally understand, that revenge doesn't really help. When we bullied the bullies, when we got our revenge, we were actually just putting everyone in between, under immense pressure.

And sometimes people, can snap under pressure.

XxX XxX XxX XxX

It's the day of Hazelle's memorial service. Even though I was okay with just going in with my pajamas, and my uncombed hair, she made me put on a nice dress, and she braided my hair properly. She said my other option of clothing wouldn't really be respectful.