Well, I wrote this in about five minutes, on my phone, on the way to go get groceries. I honestly wrote it as more of an outline than an actual story, but I've been looking over it and I don't think I'll actually ever write it, so I'll just post what I have, despite the fact that I kind of really dislike it.
Disclaimer: I don't own Degrassi.
The graveyard was dead quiet (no pun intended) as we waited for the memorial to begin. I had my eyes glued shut, knowing if I opened them they would find their way to the open casket.
"You are way too skinny to have man boobs."
Someone stood near his grave and droned on and on about death and how he was with God now (bullshit), but I was too focused on keeping my breathing steady to absorb a single word. Underneath my close eyelids, a pair of blue eyes pierced the darkness. His eyes.
"Touch me again, and I'll kill you."
My own words echoed through my mind, over and over until my head was throbbing. He had always just taken our bullying – it had become so natural; I never stopped to think about the consequences.
I watched from the hallway as a thin boy was thrown into the door. The glass shattered, and I rushed to scold Fitz and Owen. But I stopped in my tracks as I realized who it was. He deserved it, Bianca, I thought, leave him.
Why hadn't I just given him a chance? Why hadn't I stood up for him? Why had I been so prejudiced to the one guy who treated me right? He hadn't just seen me as the 'school slut', the 'bad girl'. To him I was Bianca. And now he was dead, because of me.
I gave him a look that was somewhere between a sneer and a complaisant smile when he asked me to dance. He was cute, certainly, but I've never been the type to let a boy have me that easily.
If I could go back to that day, I would've given my all to him, then and there. The two weeks I had truly known him were amazing, and I threw it all away to keep up my reputation. I couldn't believe how much of a bitch I'd been. It would almost make me want to join him in the grave, if I didn't know the pain it caused firsthand.
"Adam killed himself. I hope you're happy." I wasn't sure who the dark-haired boy was, but I wasn't exactly paying attention. My mouth hung open, and though I knew I had no right to cry, I held back tears.
Subconsciously, I noticed the man who had been talking had stopped, and I finally allowed myself to open my eyes. Adam's family and his two best friends sat in front of us in the two front rows, and the rest of us stood. Fitz and Owen stood to my right, giving me space but not quite leaving me a lone.
I reluctantly let my eyes lift to Adam's body, and I felt my heart contract, and then start pounding. I didn't know whether to cry, scream, or vomit. I bit down hard on my lip as I took everything in – his hair, a bit ruffled but neater than usual; the freckles that dotted his face and somehow made him ever more adorable; and his lips, tinted purple but still looking the way they had each time I'd kind of almost wanted to kiss him.
"I'm sorry, Adam," I whispered as I let my eyes fall closed again. "I'm so sorry." A single tear trickled down my cheek.