Disclaimer: Since I forgot to in the first chapter… shrugs Anyway, I don't own any of the characters in this story UNLESS - big dance - I happen to make one or two up out of my own imagination, which could happen in this chapter, but I don't know.

A/N: I'd like to thank you all so much for commenting on my last chapter! I took it all into thought and figured that I might as well answer your reviews and questions.

1. The funeral's rushed setting was necessary for the story, as you read this chapter and later ones as well. Mrs. Murray

I visited Mrs. Murray after the funeral. I guess it just seemed like she might've needed some feminine support, having gone through so much drama. Nearly all of my friends – save Liberty and a few others – are guys, so it's hard for me to get them to understand what I'm going through. Take, for instance, my 'menstrual cycle.' I would never for the life of me be able to make them understand that. Not that I'd really talk to them about it anyway, but I'd done it before, and I still believe that there's nothing about it that is to be ashamed of.

Leaving without so much as a second word, I bid my friends goodbye for a moment and went to find the woman in a small room off to the right. She was crying, and for a second I didn't know whether to disturb her or not. Mrs. Murray appeared to be in a time of privacy, and sometimes we all just needed to be alone, right? Either way, I decided to speak to her, and as I stepped toward her with a sympathetic expression on my face, I took a seat next to her.

Her outfit was no less than that of a woman going through her midlife crisis, trying to find ways to become young again. I suspected she was one of those at-home mothers that smoked cigarettes all the time and tried overwhelmingly hard to be a 'good mom.' I suddenly became aware of how wonderful my own mother must have seemed to others, to Sean, to Rick, or even to Toby. All of them seemed to have problems with their parents, and mine… Well, Mom and I connected in a way that most mothers and daughters didn't. My father? We won't get into that.

"What do you want," she asked in more of a demand than a question, her hair exactly the same shade as Rick's had been. I suddenly felt sorry for her, knowing that as she looked in the mirror each morning, she'd be reminded of her son's death just by her own appearance alone. They were so alike, it was amazing.

I didn't know what to say, and as I swiped a golden blonde hair from in front of my eyes and tucked it delicately behind my left ear, watching her every move as I did so. "I… I can leave you alone," I reasoned, starting to stand up, but she held her hand out to stop me.

There were so many problems in my life, and as I felt my eyes start to burn with the sting of tears, I looked over at her, trying to forget them. Maybe, if I wished hard enough, I wouldn't have the guilt weighing impassively on my shoulders, the guilty truth of why Rick had died. He'd been trying to shoot me.

I doubted that Mrs. Murray knew any of this. She didn't look like she liked me anyway, but all the same, I stayed by her side, unsure of what to do. I could tell that she was watching me too, even though my eyes remained transfixed on the floor below me, as if I were in one of those aquariums that went underneath the ocean's surface; as if there were sharks swimming beneath my feet.

"Rick… He never did anything wrong," Mrs. Murray said rather naively, gently licking her lips to rinse them of tears. I looked out the window before finally looking up at the woman and nodding, not necessarily believing her. "Why did he die? Tell me everything. P-please."

I hesitated. Everything? That would mean telling her that I had been cruel to Rick, It would mean that I would have to tell her what had happened to him after the competition. Most importantly, it would mean telling her that Rick had tried to shoot me, and that he'd missed when tackled by Sean. "It's complicated," I said simply, sighing. It wasn't that I didn't want to get my feelings out to anyone, just not her. Not the mother of the boy who, in a way, I had killed, in accomplice with Sean. It felt horrible, I wasn't sure if those feelings would ever go away. I let out a loose breath and stared her in the eyes before drawing my attention to her knees instead. For some reason, it was a lot easier to talk to them than to her.

"I… I didn't know Rick very well," I started, my voice shaky from crying. There were tears half-dried on my cheeks, and I had to wonder – there was a time when they just stopped. Stopped moving. Frozen. Dead.

Everything had to stop someday. Everything had to die, from the tears on my cheeks to the people that stood around me, so full of laughter and emotion. Degrassi was always full of some sort of emotion, it seemed, even more than other schools. I coughed, then continued my story. "But he seemed n-nice. Kids at our school… They were making fun of him after…" I looked up at her, hoping she knew about Terri so I wouldn't have to make her even more miserable. She nodded, and I could see the tears forming in her eyes. "After that. And I guess he just… couldn't take it anymore." I couldn't talk any longer than that, and by now, tears were cascading down my cheeks in long strokes. I hadn't cried so hard in… Almost as long as I can remember. Guilt poured upon my shoulders, down my chest, and drained through my toes. I felt undeserving, but it didn't last long as Mrs. Murray put her arm on my back, hugging me close to her. It felt awkward.

"It's okay, I miss him too," she said quietly, rocking me back and forth.

"That's not it," I blurted out, but I instantly regretted my words. "I mean, I-I miss him, but there's something… Never mind."

Nonetheless, I wouldn't get away with such things by now. She looked at me and I could see a tear line on her cheek, wavered and smooth. "What, what is it?"

I couldn't talk. I instead simply shook my head and stood up, hesitating by the doorway. "I… I can't. I'll tell you… another time."

But the next thing that the woman said made me stay, yet again. This time, it wasn't heartfelt or warming, but cruel and foul. "What, too afraid to say that the boy out there… That he killed my son?"

I turned toward her and felt my eyes sting with a mix of anger and sadness. "Sean didn't shoot Rick," I said firmly, staring her in the eyes. I couldn't stand people like this. So I said it. "He shot himself. After trying to shoot me."

To tell the truth, I was really surprised. I would've never guessed that I would've been able to say that. Sure, I was an outspoken person, but still… It didn't make sense, not really. Mrs. Murray was speechless. Her mouth was wide open, a gap in her round and slightly flabby face. I raised my eyebrows, turned on my heel, and left.

Sean and Toby were waiting outside. Both of them looked at me with worried expressions as wet tears streamed down my cheeks. I felt like a fool for doing such things, but what would anyone else have done? I guess it was the shock that scared me, knowing that he was trying to shoot me. I had done the wrong. It had been my turn to die, not Rick's.

"Emma?" Toby asked, walking after me as I paced away from them and collapsed into a hard wooden bench. I couldn't talk to him about things the way I used to, but we'd become a lot closer this year. "Do you want to go home?" I nodded my head and just briefly made eye contact with Sean, but it didn't last long.