A thing is not necessarily true because a man dies for it. –Oscar Wilde
It is a curious thing. I never imagined I'd feel relief at the sight of Alison, but there she was passing through the door and remaining strong for me. The horrible sight must've shaken her, but if it did, she didn't show it. I thank her for that. She picked up my phone and put it in her pocket, and then she came to me. She lowered herself to my level, and like she was with a child, she spoke in a soothing tone, words that escape me now, but I remember the feeling that everything was going to be okay. That she could make it all go away. Maybe this was what made everyone love her so. Maybe it was something all my friends had . . . even Spencer. Maybe it was something I lacked. In that moment though, it didn't matter. She took me in her arms and cradled my head against her shoulder, and when I was ready she took my hand and lead me from the room and then from the house. I wasn't conscious of the blood matting my hair or seeping through my clothes and to the depths of my bones. I was only conscious of my friend leading me away from tragedy and into the arms of the other friends that had just arrived and were waiting for us on the lawn. Maybe this is what Jenna felt all the time?
The rest was a blur. Cops arrived. I'm not even sure who called, though my some part of me knew it had been Ali. She was the only one who shared any firm belief that the cops in this town might actually someday do somebody a bit of good. I was aware that they tried speaking to me, but I heard a familiar deep voice, maybe Toby; tell them that they'd collect my statement later. The things people must've thought. It should've sent me back to those five years ago where I ended up in prison for the exact same stupid godforsaken thing. But all I could focus on were the distant words some idiot onlooker spoke, "At least there's a body this time."
At least there's a body this time . . .
That's what this town has come to. The questioning of whether a death is valid unless a lifeless body of someone's loved one is present. How fucked up. If I had any ounce of strength left to move, I would've found the bitch that said that and punched her. The moments I stood there hugged by Spencer and Aria, clutching Emily's hand, it seemed that time moved both too fast and too slow. As though the world were all moving through water and everyone else could hold their head up and stay afloat while I was left to drown on my own with no one to even notice my bubbled breaths reaching to the surface for help. What was happening? I wanted to step forward and scream for everything to stop. For time and space to just stop. For people to just stop. I needed everything to stop. To stop fading away and slipping through my fingers and falling through cracks no one even noticed. This town. This stupid godforsaken town was full of them. And now . . . and now I was left with a note crumbled in my hand announcing their demise. A demise they didn't even know was coming. A demise only I apparently held the key to bringing to an end.
Sorry, Rosewood . . . I'd save you if I could, but we all know you're fucked.