No tear to shed, no sadness in my eyes, no pain on my face. I know what they all must be thinking; she heartless, she doesn't even care that tragedy has hit her family. But they're only spectators, knowing only what they see or are told, which turns out isn't much. My mother; she plays the grieving mother well in front of everyone, if only they knew what was really going on in her head.
With no emotion on my face I'm forced to be in a room full of people here to pay their respects to my brother. The whispers surround me, people all have there opinions, they think he lost it, and others think it was drugs. None guessed right, only I knew what went on in his head when he pulled the trigger. Only me, my mother, and a few doctors knew he'd tried before, I wasn't going to make the same mistake the second time around.
Everyone deserves to be happy, even if it means giving them up. So I did what I had to do. He sat me down, explained everything, took off his sweater draping it over my shoulders "To mask the smell that was to come." He said. Me needing to make the situation lighter; if it were possible had to say something, so I said the first thing that came to mind. "Make sure it's on the white rug, at least then I have some amusement." He forced a tight smile, kissed me on the forehead, told me he loved me no matter what, and then walked into the living room.
I wanted to move but I couldn't I just sat there on top of the dinning room table listening to the silent house waiting for the noise to come. BAM, there it was and oddly enough I smile was brought to my face, hopping off the table I slowly creped into the living room, almost scared of what I was going to see. Dead aim; there he laid with a matching smile on his face and a gun in his hand.
The next few hours were a blur, 911, officer asking questions, my mother angry about her precious rug being ruined, missing the fact that he son killed his self, missing even more that she caused the whole problem, and me sitting alone in the empty house to realize that I'm still stuck in the hell hole I call home.
I wanted to be sad, I wanted to cry, I wanted even more to pick up the gun and shoot my mother. But something inside of me stopped all of these things from happening. How could I be sad that my brother was happy? How could I cry when he was smiling? How could I pull the trigger on someone who wasn't worth the effort?
Word spreads fast and in the morning everyone knows. I go back to school as if it were any other day, drawing everyone to stare at me, wondering how I could function with this happening, part of me realizes that all of this leads to me being now an only child; another part pushes the thoughts away and into a box with a lock.
"Everything going to be okay." If I have to hear that sentence again then I'll have to kill them. Everything's never going to be okay, I did the most unselfish thing you could ask anyone to do, I let go of the one thing that kept me sane. I'm still here breathing and living with my mother; who wishes it where me that had killed my self. Maybe that would have been a good idea, and then she could have her perfect child back.
But that's impossible, so here I sit in a room full of people wondering how I'm going to survive? Wondering if I should have just continued to be selfish and tell me no. Asking myself if it's all worth it? Walking up to the open casket I look down, the smile is no longer there, on both of us. My mind verves again why did he have to be so selfish? Leaving me here to suffer, everyone's watching me now, seeing what I'm going to do, and for the first time in days there's emotion on my face. Anger, I stomp out of the room, and whispers start again, this time they match the thought in my head, how could h do this to his own twin sister?
The anger fades the more a drink, and before I know it, it's gone along with an entire bottle of vodka. If Josh can break his promise of always being there for me and I'm breaking my promise. Back to the blade, back to the one thing that's left to take away the pain. Blood drips down my arm, I don't bother to wipe it off. Two more cuts latter, I'm ready to sleep, everything's changed, or just gone back to the place they used to be, the place I know they should have always been.
The attention I'm getting has yet to go away, teachers saying work doesn't have to be done, sympathetic looks from students. But I push through it all and head to gym class. Sharpay's already there. My best friend who probably would understand most of what I'm going through, yet I haven't told her anything, but they say best friends know best.
"Gabriella, people care about you, I don't want you to do the same thing." I bluff and hope she doesn't call it.
"Hun, I'm fine. I'm not my brother; I have never had the same pressure put on me. Please you don't have to worry about me." She calls me on it, lifting up the sleeves on the shirt I'm wearing she reveals the truth.
"Then what is that?" I wonder how long she's known, and why she's never mentioned it? "You promised Josh you'd stop, do you know what he would say if he found out?" the hurt on her face should have made me break, promise her I'd stop, but it didn't. Maybe the bullet that struck Josh's heart also stopped mine to.
"Yeah he would tell me she's not worth hurt myself over, that I should stop caring, that our promise means everything. But he's not here and our promise means nothing because he broke his end of it. He promised me he would always be here for me." I'm now glad that everyone had left, leaving me and Sharpay to yell.
"But she's still not worth it, you know it yet you still cut." Sharpay wiped the falling tears.
"Your right I do know, and apparently I'm not worth her time anymore because she acts like I'm not here. But Josh is worth it, and he left me, I let him be happy for once and he not once thought about what would happen to me." Tear now falling from my eyes too.
"Ella." Sharpay reached over to hug me.
"Girls your both late and you're sitting in here hanging out, not a good first impression for your new teacher." The conversation ended there, wiping the tear and walking out the gym like nothing happened.
Mr. Bolton is our new teacher and the new basketball coach, we were told we weren't going to be doing much today, just him figuring out were we were at. Turns out he also has a son Troy; typical pretty boy blondish brown shaggy hair, blue eyes, and a killer body, which made all the girls head over heels for him. I could care less; there was nothing special about him. We got paired up for the fitness testing.
"Hey, I'm Troy; Troy Bolton." He pulls out a smile.
"You know if I were you I wouldn't mention your last name if the first sentence you say to people, they may think that you like the fact that your father works here." I leave it at that, hoping that he catches on, but apparently he didn't.
"What no welcome to East High, or what's up? How about a name I gave you mines?" he said following me to where our mat was.
"Troy you know my name, it was said when you were told I was going to be your partner. I would have welcomed you to East High, but I don't know why you would be happy to be here, its just high school, and as for what's up, I really don't care. You're my partner so I have to deal with you for at least the next 75 minutes, so by helping me you could just shut up."
"Okay got it, you're not like other girls, or you're not a morning person." Troy pondered to him self.
"It's two words and six letter, it's not that hard to understand. So why are you having such a hard time keeping your mouth shut. But your right I'm not like everyone else, you have no effect on me what so ever, plus I'm not a morning person." I said finishing my sit ups.
"Got it." No other words came out of his mouth for the rest of the time leaving me to try and sort out all my thoughts.
The class ended quickly and I rushed to the change room hoping that Sharpay would be distracted and not bring up our previous conversation.
"Oh my gosh! Your so lucky Ella, he so hot, so what did you find out? Sharpay freaked out.
"His name is Troy Bolton, so I know the same you do, exciting isn't it?" I said sarcastically.
"You mean you guys didn't talk at all?"
"Nope, wasn't in the mood, but you know, he is, so why don't you go talk to him." I went back to doing my hair.
The first half of the day was uneventful, the girls whispered about Troy, giggling when ever he walked by, and the guys talked crapped, mad that the attention wasn't on them. I was just happy that the attention wasn't completely on me any more. Lunch time came around and I got a yogurt, the only thing I think I can keep down right now, and sat at our usual table waiting for Sharpay to arrive. Surly enough she does and she followed my advice. Troy's with her and their laughing at something. "Hey Ella you remember Troy right." Sharpay said taking a seat next to me motioning for Troy to take the other one.
"Yea how could I not, everyone talking about him." Sarcasm still laced in my voice.
"So I'm going to get something to eat, and you too can talk since someone didn't want to this morning." Sharpay said getting up from the table.
I was all prepared to sit in silence till Sharpay got back but off coarse Troy had to talk. "You know Gabriella; I don't get you, and people say that you haven't always been like this. So why now?"
"Been like what?" Anger boiled in my blood.
"Anti social, you don't talk much. Apparently normally you're the life of the party always happy."
"Maybe I was just tried of pretending to be like that, be how I'm meant to be like. No one but Sharpay knows the real me, and I'm done doing that. I don't have to always be happy or talk." Venting felt good. "I got to go, tell Shar I say bye." And I bolted.
I walked into the house after school, the police tape is gone, the new reporters too, and so is all evidence that my brother killed him self. The once white rug had been replace by a black one, she probably hoping a pull the same stunt and she won't have to buy a new rug. Maria the house keeper is in the kitchen cleaning, she tells me my mother has gone on vacation for a while, she needed a break from all the stress, its nothing new to me. So I go up to my room hoping for some sleep, but my mother left a surprise.
Boxes are everywhere, blocking me from getting to my room. I want to scream and so I do, Maria comes running. Stunned she carefully explains them in a broken Spanish accent "Your mother wanted to room empty, she says there's no need to keep the stuff around." Tears are running down my face and the only word that comes out of my mouth is 'no', and for the second time that day I bolt, running to the one place that can still make me happy.
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