Unwritten Pages

Chapter Six: Phone Call

     “Andrew Campbell! You get down here at once!” My father is shouting from the living room. Even with the door closed, I can still hear his booming voice.

     I groan and get out from the bed. What do they want? Don't they know that I'm thinking about what to say for Winter's funeral?

     I think about half-an-hour earlier, when I was playing the music. I narrow my eyes. Though I'm not sure if I'm right, I think Winter killed herself because she had a problem.

     A problem with what? That's the question that I don't know the answer too. No amount of listening to those songs helped my figure it out. I wrote down the lyrics and tried to decipher them, only to fail.

     But I doubt that the police would listen to what I would have to say about the songs. They were just songs, as far as anyone would think. But they weren't Winter's friends. They didn't know her. I knew Winter. To her, words weren't just words. They were like... They were like a whole new world to Winter.

     And she was passionate about singing. So everything she sang or wrote meant something. That girl... It's surprising that she wanted to be an astronomer, not a singer.

     I thought about it a bit. Winter wasn't noticed at school—until her death. Maybe the not being noticed part of her life discouraged her. Maybe it made her think that no one would know her if she ever became a singer. No one except for us.

     “Young man!” My mom's high voice reaches my room.

     I open the door. “Yeah?”

     “Get down here!”

     I wonder if they're mad.

     I reluctantly make my way down from my room and into the living room where I can see my mother and my father, sitting on the couch.

     My mother has brown hair and green eyes. She's quite tall for her age. Around the same height as my father. My father looks young... And well... Kind of like me. Or, as I could phrase it better, I kind of look like my father. I have his black hair and blue eyes.

     Anyway, they turn to look at me. They don't look upset.

     “Yeah?”

     “Your friends are here,” my father says. I almost roll my eyes. They scream at me... Just to say that my friends are here?

     “They're on the lawn outside. They're wondering if you want to go play basketball with them,” my mother adds. I frown. Basketball? Since when has Arianna and Desiree been interested in basketball?

     “Um, okay. I'll go see them,” I say. I'm in shorts and a t-shirt already, so I don't have to change. I open the door and step out, prepared to see Arianna and Desiree.

     Desiree had called me earlier, I know she's been crying. I wonder how she is now. And Arianna. I remember when I told Arianna that Winter was dead.

     I feel guilty about Winter's death. While Arianna and Desiree are feeling the pain of her death, I'm not feeling anything yet. I wonder how long this is going to last before I break.

     I close the door and look up. “Ari, Desiree—” I pause, because it isn't Arianna and Desiree.

     There are three teenage guys my age standing on the lawn. Two of them are blonde and one of them has black hair like mine.

     “Hey dude, nice to see that you're...sane,” Tomas says. He smiles a bit.

     “I thought you were going to fall in a state of depression,” Con adds.