After School

Epilogue

September 28, 1946

It hurt every day. The absence of someone who was once there.

The day after he died they said, "Good mourning," as if there was gladness in the mourning, that they took comfort in it somehow. But for Carter the mourning wasn't good at all, it was only the start of the darkest night there ever was. Yuta was Carter's life but life was far away from fair. So no, it was not a good mourning. It would never be.

Every teacher and student at Willesden were at the funeral, their heads lowered. Maybe it was them showing respect or maybe they were too afraid to look at the sight in front of them. Carter stood at the front of the funeral, alongside his friends who were present that day. The silence dwelled as everyone quietly listened to the priest's words.

He courageously lifted his head to look at the three white crosses stamped in the middle of the field behind Willesden High School. Jimmy, Yuta, and Wilson Stevenson's names were all engraved on the cross, above a final message that everyone collaborated to create. Carter gnawed on his lower lip as he read the message repeatedly. He wondered what significance it held. It was for Yuta, but he was the only person in the entire world who would never be able to read it.

Carter looked up to the watery skies and heaven beyond, unable to gaze at that sight any longer. He had to believe his lover was safe up there, comfortable and warm. To look down would be to imagine Yuta in a cold box, bereft of warm smiles and loving embraces.

Carter held his tears back until they passed a picture of all three of them to everyone. The memories came flooding back like a tidal wave, strong and stubborn, unable to leave with ease. Yuta's and Jimmy's face looked full of life and happy that Carter couldn't help but wonder what they looked like under that closed wooden box. Carter stared blankly at their crosses hoping that a miracle would happen and they would come back to him. But nothing happened. They were gone.

Carter did not mourn Wilson Stevenson. He purposely released his grip from the photograph with his face on it and watched as it fluttered to the muddy ground. It irritated Carter that the majority of the school would be mourning Wilson Stevenson, their loveable teacher who sacrificed his life, instead of the true heroes. People barely knew Yuta and Jimmy, and the story Carter and the others told the authorities didn't make things better.

They decided to claim something realistic because they knew no one was going to believe that their loveable teacher was truly a monster. So they said Mr. Stevenson heroically scoured the obliterated pool room for the missing students. In the process, he found their dead bodies, before a plank of wood fell from the destroyed wall and plunged through his heart. Carter scanned the crowd weeping behind him and gritted his teeth at the thought of that stupid story running through their heads.

As soon as the funeral was over, they all groggily turned around. Carter stomped across the field, not caring for the mud that stained his black clothes. He ran past his friends wordlessly and thankfully they understood. He pushed past the murmuring crowd, his face scrunched with a mixture of anger and grief. How dare they mourn for Stevenson when Yuta and Jimmy were his victims?! When Yuta and Jimmy were the true heroes, the true sacrifices?!

When he entered the vacant building, he placed his hands on his knees and panted. The chilly autumn air outside was sickening and he was glad to return to the humidity of the school. He straightened his back and walked calmly towards Room 110, although he found it difficult to breathe even after moments of rest. Carter rubbed his swollen eyes and suppressed his tears, urging himself that the pain will go soon.

Carter pushed open the wooden classroom door and entered. He gazed at the vacant room that had been rebuilt since Mr. Stevenson's attacks, but no one knew that truth. They were are all consumed with their fake grief to care about anything or anyone else. Carter walked towards the left side of the classroom and gazed sadly at Yuta's desk. He walked around it and sat in his chair, and he finally broke down when his eyes landed on Yuta's black notebook.