I gently open the door.

"Sayori?"

What I saw was beyond my emotional comprehension. Sayori was hanging from the ceiling with a noose around her neck.

"What the hell?"

Her skin was pale and her face stared lifelessly with half open eyes.

"What the hell?!"

I feel my abdomen tense up and my throat go numb as I gag once; twice; thrice. I tried to cover my mouth with my hand, resisting the urge to vomit, but I could not help it. Though as little the amount it was, I felt the puke escape from my mouth and leak through my fingers. I continued to gag cough at the taste of it.

I began to sob, nothing in my body feeling stable as I fell onto my knees and stared at the ground. I was light-headed, my nose stuffy, yet running, eyes and cheeks riddled with tears.
Why? Why of all times did she do this?

Looking back up at Sayori's corpse only made the sobbing worse, but I had to calm down. She did not deserve to see me like this, even in her deceased presence. I shakily stood up and repositioned the knocked-over chair next to her. Standing on top of it, I loosened the rope around her neck with one hand, the other supporting her body.

As the noose came undone, Sayori leaned towards me, causing us to fall backwards onto the floor. With a loud thud, I laid there quietly, still holding Sayori's corpse. Having her head resting on my left shoulder and my arms around her torso like this reminded me of the other night after she confessed to me.

I started to cry again, my arms wrapping and gripping tighter as I thought of why she would hang herself. Was it my fault? Was Sayori so determined to prove that she didn't want to burden others? Because this doesn't help in the slightest. She should have known that there are people like me who care about her deeply. Just last week I was always there to help while I was at the literature club. I told her myself, I would always be there for her, but not this time.

Hugging her dead body would obviously not help me cope. I slightly calmed down again, rolling over carcass onto her back, next to me on the floor, crossing my arms so that I wouldn't touch her.

With her this close to me, I started to remember the days of the past, before I even joined the literature club. I remember being dared by my male friends from childhood. They said something along the lines of, "Go talk to that girl, see if she likes you," acting like it was some kind of goof. Turns out that she did like me. She accepted everything about me, and I accepted everything about her, even her flaws and vice versa.

She was everything that I had.

Was.

You know what?
Screw the festival.

Screw the Literature Club.
I just lost my best friend.

I know that I cannot change anything about it, but this pain will take forever to heal.

All that I want to do is lay down here in this room with her for eternity.

I will not abandon Sayori again.