Curiosity

Chapter 2

In the Lovely Bones, she had her own little world. Everything that she wanted, everything that her imagination could control, she had. Is that why people want to die? Because they read fictional books about the after-life, thinking it's going to be like that and when it's not they regret it?

Does a person ever regret dying after they're dead? Because, I mean, if I were dead and heaven or the after-life isn't what I imagined it to be, I would want to go back. I would want to be alive again because I really don't want to be somewhere that I don't want. Just like church or kids birthday parties.

I wonder if Marnie regrets the choice she made, if she looks down at me and her family, wishing she was with us for the holidays and that everything was actually going to be okay. But I guess Marnie never thought that far ahead in life, just focused on the pain that never resolved. I really do wish that she would have told me the problems she was having, I mean, I told her everything about me. I feel like I didn't deserve the hostile attitude I got from Marnie.

Maybe I'm a little mad that she never told me a single thing about this depression or suicidal thought, maybe I could have saved her and she would be with me right now.

December 14th, 2011

Classes start back up today, Manchester Uni goes off of these things called trimesters. It's different from the US, which they go by semesters. Basis of my statement is that there are three opportunities to have different classes, not just two. Plus the tri's are shorter than a semester. Truth is I heard that they are trying to change it to semester since everyone else is practically on them, just not Manchester.

So, really we start classes for two weeks before we are off for three; Christmas break. I can't afford to go back home for Christmas since I spent the money on Marnies funeral, making me stay here for a full three weeks, alone with no one I know, in a big city like Manchester. I'm not overly sad, only because I like to be alone, just not on holidays.

My first class today is Thought and Writing, something every freshmen needs to graduate. I like to write for the most part. Because I'm such a curious person and people find me weird, I just write my thoughts down in a journal so no one can judge me on the way my brain works.

I guess word got around that I was the "dead girl's friend" so I'm unfortunately "that girl" as I walk down the sidewalk, people stare and point, some of them have even laughed at me.

Do you think I can help that my friend killed herself? No, I can't and the only way I can move on with my life is if people stopped reminding me of it. But that obviously isn't going to happen.

The classroom is large for the uni but small for lecture hall, maybe over 50 in the class. I sit down in the third row, pulling out the course materials. The professor makes his way into the room, writing his name on the board and turning to our class, "I am Mr. Lenz, with a Z not an S, don't get my name wrong" he kind of laughs, "this is English"

Curly hair bobs up and down, sitting down next to me, "Taylor, right?" I just nod looking at the green eyes that take me away from my thoughts, "Harry"

"Yeah, you checked me out" I push up my glasses, "I mean, not like that but like you checked out my books" I become frazzled

He laughs, pushing his hair out of his face, "I understand what you're trying to say" he smiles a little bit more, showing the dimples on his cheeks, "so English, yeah?"

"yeah" I whisper, looking back at what the professor has to say. He talks about a new syllabus, what the class expects, or really what he expects out of the class and students

"He kind of sounds funny" he laughs, "and I bet you he has toupee" I just nod looking back at the board, "Don't you think?" he keeps laughing.

Every time I hear his voice, I seem to be calmed, my mind shuts off. He seems to calm, I don't really want to pay attention to anything else, just what he says. This Harry guy seems like if he read the phonebook; I would focus and pay attention to every word.