I think the next few months were the worst for me. I left the track team, for one. That was probably a mistake. The sport was something that kept my mind occupied, as it always had. It relaxed me, got me away from the stress of real life. But now it just didn't seem right. Every time I went out for a jog, I'd keep hearing Leslie's distinct laugh ahead of me, a whisper in the wind, daring me to catch up. Running simply wasn't the same without my old partner.
And even worse, the hazing started back up again when I entered high school.
I had largely reverted back to my old ways of solitude, and that fact wasn't lost on the upperclassmen. It was worse this time around. Because I stopped running, some guys started calling me a quitter, loser, things like that. Progressed to shoving in the gym locker room, and pretty soon I couldn't get away from it as I became the punching bag, not just for my grade, but for the whole school it seemed. I'm not going to go into details. Suffice it to say, I'd wake up every morning, dreading the next seven hours, go through hell, and then just retreat to my room to wind down.
At night, I contemplated life and all that had happened to me, and I found no redeeming features whatsoever. It was only those few months with Leslie that I had ever been truly happy. Now that time was gone forever and haunting me about what was, and more importantly, what could have been.
I questioned my religion, too. Does every kid do that? Probably. I started to think that Leslie might have been right, after all. I had seen no proof of God. And it seemed like the more I needed help, the more He ignored me. I'd plead at night for Him to ease my pain - for just a single day of respite - and especially for Leslie, but there was never any answer. If anything, my life just got worse.
I literally felt cast away, left for dead. Rejected by my last hope. And the misery continued.
I turned 15 in the middle of the school year. The date was completely forgotten. I didn't even realize it had been another year until May Belle said "Happy Birthday" to me that morning. She gave me her present; a new art set. It took me by surprise, all right. I got a little choked up, and she thought that it was because I was happy, but it really wasn't.
I went to Leslie's grave again that day. Still couldn't believe that I was 15 already; couldn't fathom that she would never be this age, and that made me feel as guilty as ever. It didn't exactly put me in the best spirits as I walked through the cemetery. Well, I got to her grave, and this time, I still struggled to find the right words.
"Hey Leslie." I hadn't spoken aloud in a long time, and my voice cracked.
"It's Jess, remember? ... Oh God, I'm so, so sorry. Please... Please forgive me," I begged.
But there was no answer.
"I need you. Please, Leslie, I need your help."
I cut school the next few days to sit in the graveyard. And the more I thought about it, the more I kept coming to the conclusion that there was only one option left.
It wasn't a choice now, far from it. I didn't know exactly where I was going to end up afterwards, but I had an idea. I was hopeful... TOO hopeful, maybe, but at that point, it was all I had left. I stayed up whole nights thinking about my plan. It was delusion, really. I was too far gone by that point. Everything had fallen apart, and I just couldn't make it through the rest of high school without her, let alone the rest of my life.
The next rain came soon enough. And just as I hoped, it rained the whole day, and the weather forecast called for more showers the next. I decided that night to really go through with it.
So dawn came, and I woke at the alarm. It was a Saturday morning. Everyone would still be in bed for awhile, but I wanted to go as soon as possible.
May Belle was sleeping when I walked into her room. She looked so peaceful, so innocent. I knew that she would grow up to be a good person, just like Leslie would have. I knelt by the side of the bed.
"Goodbye May Belle. Queen."
She stirred a little but didn't wake. I walked out, closing the door gently. And there was only one thing left to do.
I put on my shoes and left the house for what I hoped would be the last time. Some doubt entered my head. I quickly blocked it out. There was a light drizzle in the air, and I let myself be caught up in the early morning scent for a few seconds, tipping my head back and letting the moisture fall onto my face.
And then my feet took me back, back to the crime scene, back to my – OUR – old haven. The bridge to Terabithia came into sight, and immediately a small sense of pride welled up in me, despite everything.
For the first time in years, I stepped onto the wooden planks and looked out over the edge into the water. Oh, how much happiness and pain had come from this place. The memories came back to me as I walked across.
I thought of the first time Leslie ever brought me here, when she pronounced me King of this place, and all of the lazy afternoons we'd shared... of all the lazy afternoons we SHOULD have shared... and nights...
But who's to say if she ever...? I didn't want to think about it, though, so I shook myself back to reality and concentrated on the task at hand.
I went to the edge of the creek and kept going. The water was quite cool. Clean, even. I walked until it chilled my legs, chest, neck, and then my mouth, and nose and eyes. Then I walked some more. Deeper and deeper down into the rising creek.
The top surged above me; I couldn't even reach the surface anymore, from where I was, and slowly let the water fill my lungs.
Is this how dying feels like? I wondered. Is this what Leslie felt?
I started to lose consciousness. A nice, peaceful feeling settled over me, like a warm blanket.
And finally, the pain was gone.
