by Dawn Green
Sticks
March 13th
Stones,
Your parents finally filed for a divorce. I’m guessing you knew this would happen, since you practically gave them the green light in your letter to them. I don’t actually know what you said in your letter, but your mom mentioned a few things. She seemed in a much better mood. One of the best moods I’ve seen her in in a really long time. I know that you told her that it wasn’t her fault, and that you hoped they would finally get a divorce and just be happier. That it was okay for them to be happy. Whatever else you said, I think she needed to hear. I mean, she’s not totally back to her old self, but she’s better than I thought she’d be. She was grateful that I came over to check in on Owen. He’s … not doing as well as she is.
I found him in his closet, playing games on the iPad. He was happy to see me. We hung out for a bit and he showed me your letter. I didn’t want to read it, but he was really excited for me to see it—like it was show and tell or something. I just skimmed it. I still don’t think he gets what happened to you, just that you’re gone. And like you said in the letter, when he gets older he might understand and be able to forgive you. Although, I don’t … understand, I mean. And I’m not sure I forgive you, either.
He really wanted me to show him the one you left for me. He didn’t get that I hadn’t read it yet. No one gets it. My mom says she understands, but she keeps “checking in” with me. And even though she doesn’t ask, I know it’s to see if I opened it yet. Anyway, Owen got really mad at me and threw a mini-tantrum. I felt bad, but your mom told me not to worry and that it was probably better if I left. So I did. It’s going to take some time, but I think the little booger will be okay … eventually.
Sticks
March 18th
Dear Kacey,
You chose to leave. Do you know how many people don’t get the choice? There are cancers and accidents that don’t give people a choice between life and death, but you—you chose to die. Suicide. No one wants to hear or say this word. It’s, like, taboo or something. It freaks people out. Like the school. They’ve totally avoided talking about what you actually did. I think I scare the admin because I know what you did and I was closest to you. My mom is freaked out by it—it’s like they all think it’s contagious and, since I was closest to you, maybe I have it in me, too. I think if I had it in me, I’d know … but then again, I couldn’t spot it in you.
I’m doing all this research about it for the R&J project. Did you know that suicide is one of the leading causes of death in teens? Number three, actually, after accidents and cancer. Knowing you, you already knew that. You probably looked into it before you did it. And all the Internet sites say that the act of actually killing oneself is so contrary to human nature and our instinct to survive that it indicates a mental illness. So, maybe you WERE sick. Maybe this was your character flaw.
I’m just finding out so much right now. Apparently, while more girls attempt suicide, more guys are successful because they choose ways that are more violent and final. Shakespeare should have done his research, because he got it wrong. Juliet should have drunk the poison and Romeo should have stabbed himself. That would have been more realistic.
Jake agrees with me. I’ve kind of taken over the project. It’s not that he doesn’t want to help, but I’ve become a bit obsessed and I think it’s freaking him out. I can tell he’s worried that I’m taking this suicide project a little too far. He’s supportive, though. And he doesn’t think it’s right that the school just ignored the whole thing. He said that he’d help me get some petitions signed if I wanted to protest or something. I know he was joking, but it got me thinking that maybe I should be doing something more for you. And not just for you but for others, too. I don’t know … my mom would probably freak all over again. I’d probably have to go to more OC appointments … people would get all worried about me again … maybe it is best to just leave it.
Sticks
March 20th
Dear Stones,
So, I’ve become a track star. Really. We had a track meet today. I didn’t want to go. I was in no mood to do anything, and I told my mom I’d rather be working on my project for school, but she gave me some crap about making a commitment and how I really need to be there for my teammates … which erupted into a huge fight about you. I don’t even know how we got there. I ended up going just to get away from her.
The coach put me in the 3000-meter event. I guess I had some pent-up anger or energy, or something was going on, because I won by almost a half lap over the next girl. Jake and I ended up hanging out after. I forgot to tell you, but he asked me a few days ago, while we were working on the project, if I wanted to do something after the track meet. He won, too.
We got an iced-frap and went for a walk near the park. He’s actually a lot cooler than I thought, and smarter, too. The only reason he’s always sleeping in class is because he gets up for practice at, like, 4 AM. His parents want him to become the next Crosby, but he just likes to play because his mom likes to watch him. He said his mom has Multiple Sclerosis and she’s in a wheelchair. I felt bad because I didn’t even know what that was until I looked it up on the Internet. He has two younger sisters and I think he has to help out at home a lot. He’s not at all the guy I thought he was. We got into this really deep conversation about you. He’s all quiet at school but he sees everything. He knew you and I hadn’t been the same this past year … before you committed suicide. I don’t know how, but I feel like he gets me … gets what I’ve been going through. What I’ve really been going through.
Jake: What was Kacey like?
I didn’t say anything at first. And I think he felt me tense up because then he said…
Jake: I’m sorry. We don’t have to talk about her if you don’t want to.
Me: No. It’s okay … She was … I don’t know … smart. Like, really smart. She used to piss off all the teachers and adults because she liked to challenge them, just to see if she could get a rise out of them.
Jake: (laughing) Really?
Me: Yeah. And… ever since I knew her, she loved to read, but she didn’t like it when other people knew that about her. It was like reading was just for her and she wanted to keep it that way. Not because she felt it would wreck her image or anything—she didn’t care about stuff like that … I admired her for that. And talented, although she’d hate it if she heard me say that. She could hear a song a few times and then be able to mimic it on the guitar. Sometimes she even made the songs better. But she hated messing up. Like, really hated it. She didn’t like making mistakes or being wrong.
Jake: I get that. My hockey coach says I can be my own worst enemy.
Me: Kacey was like that, too. Sometimes she would get so down on herself because of it. When she was like that, it was hard to talk to her. She had all this energy and, when she was happy, she was really happy. And it was contagious; everyone around her would be happy, too. That’s what I loved about her the most. Sometimes she didn’t have to say or do anything to make me smile. But then … if she was mad, or upset, she was like another person. She could say the meanest things. She’d always feel bad about it later. And no matter what she said or did, I’d always forgive her because she was my Stones, and she could play a song, make me laugh, make me forget about how mad I was at her.
Jake: Stones?
Me: That’s what I called her. And she called me Sticks.
Jake: Sticks and Stones?
Me: There’s a whole story to it. It was our thing.
And then I got sad and quiet, but Jake didn’t say anything or make me think I had to talk. He just sat there with me, waiting.
Me: She was so creative. She had so much energy when she was excited about something, like some amazing song lyric she wrote. Sometimes she would phone me in the middle of the night just to tell me about it. She could be … I don’t want to say “consuming,” because that might sound bad … but sometimes she could be like that. She was … she was … I don’t k
now … Kacey. She was my best friend. And I miss her.
Jake: That’s a lot to miss.
Me: She is.
After we talked, he walked me home and that was it. We didn’t kiss or anything like that. I’m not sure I like him that way. It was just nice to talk with him. I think he felt the same way. Anyway, I promised him that I’d finish up this project for Monday. He thinks we’ve done enough. I don’t know if I’ll ever think that.
Sticks
March 22nd
Stones,
I still don’t get why you left.
I’ve been reading all this stuff about depression and signs of suicide, and okay, like, you showed some signs, but so does everyone else I know. Were you depressed? All the adults and doctors say you were. I’m not convinced, but you must have been. Did you ever talk about death or stuff like that? Well, you wrote some pretty dark poems and songs. And I guess we talked about who would come to our funerals if we died, and how we never wanted to die in a fire or something. Did you start those conversations?
Maybe I should have watched you more or been closer. I know that’s what everyone wonders about me. How could I have not seen it? Why didn’t I see it?
I don’t know. Maybe I did, but I never thought you were capable of it. You never outright said you were thinking about killing yourself. Even if you had, I’m not sure I would have taken you seriously.
It doesn’t make any sense. We weren’t as close as we used to be but we were still friends, and you made plans to hang out with me that weekend. We were supposed to go to a movie. I read on the Internet that people who are planning to commit suicide usually don’t make future plans. But we had lots. You had lots. At least, I thought you did … but you didn’t really. Not real plans.
I keep thinking about that day. Did you think about it all day? Did you know all day long that you were going to do that after the party? When I saw you, you didn’t seem any different. I just keep wondering if I’d done something different that day … if I went home with you that night … if I had told you to stay … the obnoxious counselor keeps telling me that wouldn’t have made a difference, but how the fuck does she know??
Sticks
March 24th
Dear Stones,
So, it finally happened. The thing that everyone was waiting for …
I had a meltdown in class. And it was pretty epic.
I don’t know why I lost it. I got up in a pretty good mood. I finished the project early and felt like it was ready to present. But then when I went down for breakfast, my mom was getting mad at Hershey for peeing on the floor. I didn’t like her yelling at Hershey so, of course we had a big fight. I said some things and she started crying. I’ve been making her cry a lot lately. I was going to say sorry, but then my dad got mad at me, too, and I just stormed out. So there was that.
Then, I was spending part of first block in the bathroom, going through my phone, looking at photos of you—MY PHONE!!—I’ll get to that part. It was just coincidence, but my bathroom buddy was there. I was telling her about the fight with my mom when these girls walked in. They were “like, totally” chatty and talking about their weekend. One of them said something about being asked to go to this party or something, and she said, “Ya, right, like I’d go there. I’d rather kill myself.” Normally I would have stayed hidden, but today I couldn’t. I walked out and all of them stopped talking and looked at me. You should have seen the look on their faces. I didn’t say anything. I didn’t have to. They all left really quickly—and then my bathroom buddy came out—Loren’s younger sister Mia!! I don’t know why I got so angry—cuz I finally saw my mysterious bathroom buddy, and it is someone I should have known all along, or because she is only in Grade 9 (which makes me feel totally stupid), or because she is Loren’s sister? I yelled at her for that. The first thing I did was accuse her of telling Loren everything we talked about. She denied it and said that Loren didn’t know she was talking to me. I told her to get out and she ran away. She actually looked scared of me.
And then I had to do that presentation in English. And I guess everything just kind of erupted at once—the perfect storm. Jake knew there was something wrong before we even started, but when he asked me what was up, I told him it was none of his business. I’m such a bitch. He started the presentation by giving all these facts about teen suicide, but then something in me snapped. I interrupted him and took over. I just went into a rant …
Me: If you want to know the truth, Romeo and Juliet were stupid teenagers, who were selfish and didn’t think about the consequences of their actions, or who they were leaving behind. Shakespeare’s an idiot. Romeo and Juliet didn’t kill themselves for love. They can say it was for love, but they’re still dead, and now they have no one to love and no one wins. We shouldn’t feel sorry for them—they COMMITTED SUICIDE. They KILLED themselves. It’s not romantic; it’s not heroic; it’s not even tragic … it’s just a fucking waste. Why don’t we say what it is they actually did?
They chose to stop living.
And then it became about you. Or maybe it was always about you.
I knew I was losing it in front of everyone, including Jake, who was watching me from the side, looking at me like I was a crazy person. But I couldn’t stop myself. We all pretend like you’re just gone, but the truth is you died, you killed yourself, and no one wants to say it out loud.
Someone must have told the principal that I was having a meltdown in English, because he walked in … and seeing his face just set me off more.
Me: (yelling) We need to acknowledge what Romeo and Juliet and Kacey did. SUICIDE. And the school can’t hide from it because the truth is we’re all to blame for her death. And that’s where Shakespeare got it right. Their parents, their friends, the nurse, that stupid friar, Mercutio, Tybalt … they all saw it coming. They just didn’t want to believe it could actually happen until it was too late to do anything.
I said a lot more than that. I don’t know how long I was yelling for, but it felt like a looooong time.
When I was finished, I just ran out … and now I’m here, at our spot near the beach. I realize now that I don’t come here to get away from anyone, I come here to be closer to you. When things go wrong, this is where I come now. I used to go to you.
It took me forever to get here because the tide is in. I slipped on the rocks and almost fell into the ocean. I caught myself before going totally in, but … but when I fell forward, my phone slipped out of my pocket and … I couldn’t catch it. I watched it sink. It only went a few feet down and I managed to get it out, but it’s dead. All those pictures of you, the video, your texts—GONE—and there’s nothing I can fucking do about it. I feel like I’ve lost you all over again. I can’t believe I was so klutzy and stupid.
I’m wet, I’m cold, and I’m crying … and I can’t seem to stop. Everyone’s freaking out. Jake probably never wants to talk to me again. Before I dropped my phone, my mom and dad were both calling and texting, trying to find me. I couldn’t call them back if I wanted to. I just can’t believe all those photos, your video, everything…
So I threw my phone into the ocean. Yep, I just did that.
What am I going to do now?
I’m finally home. Drea and Loren found me at the beach. Of course, they knew where I went. They told me that when I ran out of the class, the principal asked to speak with Baker in private. I think she got in trouble, because when she came back into class, the rest of the presentations were canceled and she put on a movie. She let Drea and Loren leave to come and find me. They both started crying when they saw me crying.
I apologized to Drea for everything I said. She apologized to me for acting like a snobby bitch. (Well, she didn’t use those exact words, but something close to it.) She said that she never wanted to take away what you and I had, but she wanted me to know that you were just as important to her and she’s hurting, too. This whole time, I felt like Drea was being the selfish one but … I think it’s me.
Loren was ty
pical Loren and apologized for things she didn’t need to apologize for. She felt bad for pulling away. Then we all apologized for pulling away from each other.
It turned into one big sorry fest, and we all ended up laughing about how ridiculous we must have looked. I told Loren about Mia. I guess Mia really had kept it all to herself because Loren had no idea. But she also confessed that she hadn’t really hung out with her since she started seeing Mateo. They made fun of me for hanging out in the bathroom and talking with a “bathroom stall stranger.” I have to admit: it was a weird thing to do. For a few minutes, we were friends again. We talked about a lot of stuff, like school, boys, families, you, and that night … I think we all really needed to just talk to one another … one final time. I don’t think we’re ever going to be the friends we once were. It’s kind of an unspoken thing, but I know Loren and Drea both feel the same way.
When you left, it broke us. Shattered us, like a mirror breaking into pieces. And we can try to glue it together, but we know there’s always going to be fine lines of cracks showing and a piece missing. Our friendship will never be what it was. We lost you and, because of that, we lost each other. Since you died, we’ve changed, as a group and as individuals—I don’t know if it’s a good or bad thing. It’s just the way it is.