Sayori always had a very vivid imagination. That was all I thought it was. We enjoyed each other's company, and would spend vast amounts of time together in a quiet, empty classroom after school to simply chat about our day and whatever made us happy. One day, however, she brought up something called the "Literature Club".
She would tell me that we were part of a newly-established student club together with three other members. I would make remarks about how she was too old for imaginary friends, but I still played along, somewhat intrigued by how meticulously she had shaped these characters in her mind. She had names for all of them, and even came up with their individual appearances and personalities.
Firstly, there was Yuri – a tall, elegant girl with long purple hair. She was the shy one, but would come across as sophisticated and articulate during the few times when she could garner the confidence to interact with others. Natsuki, a petite student with short pink hair, was the complete opposite. She was outspoken and assertive, always speaking her mind. Yuri and Natsuki did not always get along, according to Sayori, due to their many differences. Lastly, there was Monika, the club president. She was an attractive girl with long brown hair usually tied up in a sleek ponytail. She was also intelligent, athletic, and charming – basically the perfect girl. I could not help but feel that subconsciously, she was the person Sayori wished she could be.
I should have realized the problem with it all from the very beginning, but I did not, not until things had gotten out of hand. It started when it was apparent that she was not her usual self one day when we met after school. I had expressed my concern for her, but she told me not to worry and to "go play with everyone else". I found it strange, that even in such a state, she persisted, insisting that I play along with her creations. I had assumed that talking about this "Literature Club" would cheer her up when she was down. Unfortunately, no matter what I did from that day onwards, she never returned to her blissful, optimistic disposition.
I eventually got her to reveal the reason behind her sudden worrying behavior. It turned out she was hiding the fact that she had been suffering from depression for a very long time. It had been hard to believe at first, but I did my very best to be understanding of her situation. However, the more I cared, the more things got worse. She would tell me about how she felt selfish, and how she did not deserve my concern and attention. She wanted me to be happy, to "spend time with the others". It was then when I realized – Did she create the "Literature Club" because of her guilt? That was not all. It was evident that it had also been to distract her from her unpleasant feelings. Worse still, it would also hurt her to see me "get closer to the rest". I tried to tell her that I was happy caring for her, and that the other students were not real and we should forget them, but it was too late. All of it was already too real to her, and there was nothing I could do about it.
It all led up to the day when my worst nightmare came true. I had been waiting for her outside her home so we could walk to school together like we always did, but she never showed up that morning. I decided to enter her house, worried about what could have happened to her. I did not know how right I was to have been worried, for what I was about to discover would tell me everything. Words could not describe the overwhelming shock and grief that struck me when I saw it – my best friend, hanging lifelessly from her room ceiling. I could not believe what I was seeing. I wanted to tell myself that it was not real, but no matter how hard it was, I had to accept the fact that she was gone, forever.
I miss her, so much, and I still blame myself for not realizing it sooner, for not being able to save her. Even as I currently walk down the empty hallway, the quietness taunts me – a constant reminder of her absence and the void her death has left in my life. I soon come across the classroom we would always meet in after school, and without a second thought, I slide the door open and step in. I sit in silence, reliving the times we had spent together in this very place. As painful as it is, cherishing my memories of her would still be better than forgetting about her. I at least owe her that, after failing to stop what had happened.
Suddenly, I feel something on my shoulder. I immediately shoot out of my seat and whip around to see that it had been the hand of a beautiful girl with long brown hair gathered into a ponytail. I do not know her, but she starts to speak, telling me that she is sorry about Sayori. I then realize, this girl looks exactly like Sayori's description of… Monika?
I back away from her, telling myself that this cannot be real. I feel like I must be losing it. I yell at her to go away and leave me alone, knowing that this is more than I can deal with at this point. However, she continues to get closer to me, telling me that she is here for me. I expect to hit the wall, but instead, I turn to see that I had backed into two other girls, a tall one with purple hair, and a petite one with short pink hair. Yuri, and Natsuki? This cannot be happening. I must be dreaming. I shut my eyes tightly, willing myself to wake up, but all three of them are still there when I open my eyes.
They all seem concerned about me, and tell me that they miss Sayori too. I fight hard to keep in mind that these girls are simply figments of my imagination, but they refuse to go away, drawing me deeper into this alluring dream by the second. I begin to doubt my initial decision. Why fight it? Why insist on being miserable, when this feels so much better? These are my friends. They understand me, support me, and comfort me. It is something I should be thankful for.
I reject this "help" no longer. I embrace the bond that I have with these girls, and I shall look forward to coming back to them every single day. We shall get through this, together. I am not alone. This is real. This is my sanctuary. This is what will bring me joy again.
This is… the Literature Club.