Redemption (Jane Urie) 5

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"Okay, Jane," she sniffled.  "Okay, you win."  Daniella pulled out her phone and opened her Instagram and went live.

A few seconds in, 20 people joined.  30, 60, 120, 300, more.

"A year ago, Jane Urie committed suicide.  Nobody knew the reason why she was driven to do such a thing.  She was smart, happy, and all-around a good person.  I'm here to say that I'm the reason Jane's dead.  I put her through utter hell throughout high school literally up to the day she died."  She cried as comments poured in.

What??

Are you serious!?

What the fuck did she do to you?

Murderer!!!!

"I'm sorry, I really am," she sniffled.

Sorry doesn't bring her back!

You killed Jane!

Fucking disgusting!

Daniella ended the stream, her phone buzzing with messages, with the same attitude as those on the live feed.  She let her phone drop, screen - down, and continued to weep.

"Hurts to have a taste of your own medicine, doesn't it?"

Daniella replied in sniffles, not looking at Jane.

"And whaddya know, I did get you on your knees, ha.  On that note, my work here is done."  She spun on her heel.

"Do you regret it?"

Jane halted in her tracks, considering Daniella's words for the first time.  She retracted her steps before completely turning to her once again.

"I still remember those last moments," she began.  "When I pulled the trigger, everything immediately went blank.  All I could taste was blood, and a hint of metal."   Her tongue lightly swirled around her mouth as she recalled the tangy flavor.  "My dad's the one who found me.  He stepped out of the car when the shot fired.   Frantically, he ran inside, assuming someone broke in and my mom shot them, or they shot her."  Jane huffed.  "He called her name as he checked every room. So when he got to the bathroom and saw me..."

She flashed back to her father opening the door to his daughter in the bathtub coated in still - fresh blood, draining on the tile behind.  Her head slumped on the wall to her right, slightly stretching her neck.  His gun rested in her right hand on her lap.

"He called 911, but I was already gone.   I'm pretty sure he knew it too but didn't want to accept it."

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Calmly, Brendon took the gun and settled it on the sink, tucking one arm under her knees, the other on her back.   He lifted Jane's body, which felt much heavier than that morning, when she seemed so happy, and carried her out of the bathroom and across the hall, where he slid down the wall.

Brendon retrieved his phone and dialed a number.  He held it up to his ear.  The dial tone rang 3 times.

"Babe, I can't talk right now I have a meeting with - -"

"It's Jane."  Brendon cut his wife off with a low inflection.

"What happened, is she hurt?"

Brendon swallowed, fixated on the remains of dark and light red in the room in front of him, and a trail of colored droplets to where he now cradled his daughter.

"Bren -- "

"I found her in the bathroom."  His lower lip quivered. " She shot herself."

He felt Sarah tense up from the other end.  There was silence, then a sniffle.  "I'll be home soon."

Brendon hung up and let the phone's weight pull his hand to the floor.  Letting go of it, he wiped a loose hair from Jane's forehead and brought her limp body to his chest, entangling his fingers in the back of her bloody head.  His sobs were muffled in the crook of her neck, and sirens could be heard outside. 

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"He blamed himself more than mom.  Always held that if he'd been a few minutes earlier, he could've saved me.  That was the hardest thing to watch.  So, yes, in a way.   Funny thing is that before you do it, you don't care about anything.  All you want to do is escape from then.  It's only after, that you truly see how you've inadvertently hurt those around you."

"I'm sorry, Jane.  For all the shit I caused you," she wiped her face.  "And more."

Jane vacantly stared at her.

"If there was a way for me to bring you back or prevent this from happening, I'd do it."

"Is that so," she retorted nonchalantly.   "Did you forget that you took pleasure in the awful things you put me through?   Because let me tell you: while you were planning to 'kill' me over social media, Doctors were trying to keep me artificially alive when I was already dead.  While you were planning what you'd have for breakfast the next morning, my parents were arranging a private funeral.  You were making a college list, I was being lowered 6 feet under."

Daniella wiped a tear.  "Believe me when I say that if I could fix it, I would."

"Maybe you can't but I can."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means I can undo all of this. Make it so my death never happened."

"I-I'm sorry, what?"

"I'm just as shocked as you are. Who'd've known that I can turn back time whenever I want?" She chuckled.

"Wait, if you can come back, why didn't you before?"

"For the same reason you tormented me.  To watch... you... suffer."

"Okay, well, you got what you wanted.  I'm miserable, pathetic, and a loser, so, please... fix this."

Jane turned her mouth.  "There is a slight catch."

"Jesus, fuck, I don't care, just fix it!"

On the inside, Jane was stunned, but remained stern and shrugged.  "Okay," and snapped her fingers.

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