Beyond the Tragedy

⚡Beverly⚡

1 year after

As Beverly Thompson laid in her bed, looking at the white popcorn ceiling above her, she felt tired. She hadn't gotten a good nights rest in over a month since the date for the memorial park opening had been announced, instead reverting back to the sleep pattern and odd behaviors she had shown in the early wake of the tragedy. 

She couldn't sleep for more than twenty minutes at a time, she had several nightlights in the house, so that no room would ever be completely dark. She reveled in the bask of the glow from the McDonald's across the street, and she was constantly up from her bed walking across the hall to her grandmothers room to make sure that her paranoid thoughts about the old woman's oxygen tank failing were false.  Such behaviors Beverly had not exhibited in many months, and everyone in the apartment was hoping that after today, it would all stop.

Beverly looked at the alarm clock on the dresser and noted it was almost 7:00 A.M. In just a few minutes the radio would turn on, greeting Beverly and Nina to a new morning. 

Nina. 

The young girl sleeping on the air mattress near the closet, frowned in her sleep, but did not stir. She never did. Nina had called Beverly out of the blue a few weeks prior, asking for a place to stay. Nina had explained a little about her background in the foster system, and said she had been living with her mom for a while until she was arrested on drug charges and Nina had to split. 

Beverly's grandma had been very understanding, having been in foster care herself as a child. She had allowed Nina to stay on the basis that Nina would go to school and did not participate in any illegal activity.

Beverly had enjoyed having Nina stay, there were even times when the two seemed to forget the ordeal that brought them together, laughing and talking as if they were sisters. But the fantasy never lasted long. Nina may not have had trouble sleeping in the time she had stayed with Beverly, but her trauma manifested in other ways that, perhaps, only Beverly saw.

As the numbers on the clock turned, and the radio began playing music, Beverly acted as if she had just woken up, for Nina's benefit of course. 

"Hey." Nina said as a way of good morning. "You going today?" 

"Yeah." Beverly replied standing up from her bed. "I think, maybe it'll be therapeutic or something." 

Nina nodded slowly, but didn't move any farther than a sitting position. Beverly didn't need to ask if she would be there. 

"I'll only be gone for an hour or so." Beverly said and Nina laid back down as Beverly exited the room. 

After saying goodbye to her grandmother, Beverly left the house, walking the six blocks to the new park.

She couldn't help but think of Nina and her troubles, and felt a twinge of guilt at being forced to lie to her own grandmother. Finding the weed and cans of beers in Nina's backpack had alerted Beverly to two things: Nina's method of coping, and the fact that she wasn't going to school. She hadn't said anything to Nina or her grandmother. 

In fact, her grandmother thought that Nina was coping very well, and Nina surely thought that she had Beverly fooled. She had for a while, claiming that the sheer size and population of Foss was what had kept the two girls from interacting during the day. It was true, too. Foss no longer had the space to keep up with the numbers, and construction on a new high school, just a few blocks away from where Wilson was, would begin construction next spring. 

Despite the fact that Beverly was worried about Nina, she forced herself to shake away the thoughts and focus only on what was to come today. It was almost 8:00 A.M. and if Beverly hadn't known the way to the ceremony, the multitude of people, vehicles, and news reporters would have clued her in. 

Beverly showed her student pass to a police officer who was trying to perform crowd control, and she was let past the enormous crowd into the park, where it was still crowded but almost silent. All of the former students and staff of Wilson and the close family of the deceased were invited to attend the ceremony in the park, while others had to watch behind the gates or on TV. 

As Beverly looked around she realized why it was so quiet. This wasn't her school. This wasn't the all American, Red, White, and Gold, rah rah rah! high school of the past, and it wasn't the suffocating hell many people had known it to be on that fateful day, one year ago. 

It was grass, lush green grass, and black marble benches, and smooth cement paths that lead to a garden of flowers and 14 trees, one planted for every victim. In the center of the park was a tall structure, made with the same black marble as the benches. There was a plaque at the bottom of it, and the whole formation had writing across it in neat rows. 

Beverly turned around and squeezed her eyes shut tight, not ready to read the words yet. All around her, there must have been almost two hundred people in the park, with more people entering every minute. Was she the only one about to cry? But as she opened her eyes again, and looked around she realized that, no, she wasn't. People were hugging their friends, tears rushing down their faces. Silent, but crying. 

Before she turned around she saw multiple police officers creating an opening for a group of people coming in. They were all wearing blue lanyards around their necks and they were all...disabled. 

Bridgette Goldroy, being pushed in her wheelchair, led the group. Beverly knew that the girl who was left paralyzed from the waist down was working on creating a foundation for victims of violence left permanently disabled. And here she was, with the disabled victims of the Wilson-Battawa massacre. 

Several boys and girls followed her in wheelchairs, or on crutches.  She saw some kids with no limbs at all. A polite gasp fell over the crowd as they entered. 

Beverly tried to catch Bridgette's eye but the girl ignored her, just as she had ignored Nina last year in the hospital. Beverly felt hurt but turned away from them all. Perhaps now she would be able to read the words on the marble. 

She took a deep breath and read the words slowly. 

This park is dedicated to the students and staff of Woodrow Wilson high school who lost their lives on October 15, 2009.

Arthur Mcgee

Tyson Holdon

Evelyn Minch

Sylvia Parks

Michael Erickson

Devonna Erickson

Eliza Berg

Celia Newn

Brittany Wrenk

Jonathan Wrenk

Wesley Rolder

Rachel Burnse 

Shelly Boatworth 

Reginald (Red) Wells