Oscar, it has been approximately sixteen weeks, three days and forty-five minutes since your death. They said it was typical to grieve for loss on a short basis of twenty-four hours. Anything more or less is considered, 'abnormal' for the term, at least according to the Dr.Phillip Show. Mum has asked me to seek therapy. I feel like there is no need to. Not while you're gone. Therapy, in my opinion, is a simple basic used to get rid of things that hurt you. You never hurt me, Oscar. Why would I want to throw that away?
The attic is cold. It's been like this since the morning. I haven't been eating much either. My throat feels dry and sick. Like gastro sick. You try to eat, but everything comes right back up. You weren't like that, though. You were a happy person. You were always so positive. I used to be the awkward one who'd say 'thank you' if a stranger asked, "are you feeling well?" For a matter of fact, I'm feeling terrible. My stomach is growling, my head won't make sense, and the worst part is that I do not understand why any of this has happened.
I deserved to die, Oscar. Not you. I am a terrible child. I don't listen to anyone, not even my parents. Only you. You were the only one I'd respect. It's strange by how it sounds, but the presence of yourself slightly intimidated me. I felt as if I were to let you down, you'd hate me. I don't want that to happen.
Mum and dad were arguing. You used to tell me to cover my ears, count to ten, and start to sing 'Asleep', by The Smiths. Morrissey's voice is so shallow. It'd take me out of this world and bring me back in a split second. I liked that very much. Mum was saying things like, "we need to control her, Dan. She's not mentally stable anymore. You think I want to live with that thing up on my bloody roof?" and dad said, "Shut up, Elizabeth. Jen is our daughter and you can't just expect me to get rid of her."
He then mentioned something, something institution. I didn't quite understand, but I know that mum is upset with me. It is because I haven't left the attic since your death. I've missed out on school, and usually, that's bad. Mum has always told me to be aware of how I need to be careful at school. When big kids pick on little kids it usually ends up in a terrible fight. I'm a little kid and if I did fight with a big kid, then things will be bad. People would think that I am weird. You were always there to help me, Oscar. You never thought I was weird. Why did you have to go? You were my only friend.
Mum and dad are arguing again. I don't want to talk about it, but so far it's been a bit like this.
Dad: [silence]
Mum: [silence]
Dad: I think... we need a break. From all of this. It's just too much.
Mum: No. It is very simple. Get that little monster out of here. I don't care if she even heals in that place. Get her out and sign the adoption papers.
Dad: We've raised her till now. Do you think I'm just going to abandon my own child?
Mum: SHE'S A GOOD FOR NOTHING, AUTISTIC, WORTHLESS THING. SHE'S A M-
Dad: Don't you dare raise your voice. She is going to hear.
Mum: [silence]
Dad: [silence]
Mum: I'm leaving, Dan. Either you handle her, our I'm gone.
Dad: ...
Mum: [slams the door]
Oscar, I am very, very scared. It's getting dark out there. The attic is worsening. I don't feel any heat. In fact, I feel a little drowsy. My head hurts. I can't even dare to look at my veins. It's all dark purplish, pinkish. It's popping out like a broken knee bone. I think it's because I haven't eaten.
Why does mum hate me so much? I think it's because I've upset her. Strange that nobody has come yet to visit me. They knew how much I cared for you. Everyone knew that. But now, even our neighborhood is strange. Am I really that creepy, Oscar? I wish I was normal. How good it feels to say that word. Normal. Something you were.
I wish that my memories would come flooding back into my mind to keep me happy in the meanwhile. Nothing like that is working. It is awfully obnoxious. All I remember is that one time we were walking past a handicapped couple. The wife was crippled with one leg, and the husband was wheel chaired. When we crossed by, you squeezed my hand and looked up towards me. You said,
"Jen, you will never end up like that. I promise to help you, ok Jen?"
"Ok, Oscar."
I never understood what you meant, but I guess it kind of makes sense. Did you want to look out for me all the time? If so, I thank you for that.
We used to have little kittens. I remember telling you stories. You didn't like them very much from what I recall. You used to feel uncomfortable whenever I described their innocence. Why did you think like that, Oscar? Did you have a bad history with animals? I sure didn't. Dad told me that they died from the heat of the sun. Poor things. How can a bunch of small kittens die so quickly?
Oscar, do you remember a woman named Shirley? She was my mum's best friend. Sometimes when my head was popped away, I'd hear Miss Shirley say things like,
"You better get control of that girl, Liz. God forbid one day she's going to commit a crime!"
"I know, Shire. I know. Try telling Dan that."
Today made me realise that mum never really liked me, Oscar. Up until I was seven years old, I had to wear a tight yellow paper bracelet. It was very tough, like paper màché. Dad told me that it was to tell people how cool I was. I don't believe that anymore.
I don't feel too well. I think I need to sleep, but I can't. I need to watch you, Oscar. You're out there in the dark blue sky. I see you, the moon. you're moving slightly as I tilt my head clockwise. You're going backwards with the rest of time. As for the clouds, they're moving forward, leaving you behind. You're all alone now, just like me. We need each other, you and I. I miss you, and I'm scared. How did you disappear all of a sudden?
Now, it's raining. All of a sudden. Rain... It... It reminds me of something. Us... us, Oscar! We used to play near an old damp creek at Crosley Lake. Remember? On mid hot summer nights, you and I would go down in the evening and look at the creek. Play challenging games. I liked that very much.
Oh and, the water. The warm, moist water. The dirty water contaminated with animal urine and dead flies. I liked it. You didn't. Nothing besides dead kittens and dirty water turned you off. Why? Oh, I know why the water, in general, made you woozy. You couldn't swim.
I gasp and hold still.
I think I killed my best friend.
