Part III
Gun
When I woke, it was 9:30 the next morning. Losing both of my parents in the same day was reason enough to skip school, I decided. Both of them… dead… I thought as I began to cry again. No… they're in a better place… and I'd like to join them there.
This I had never considered before… ending my own life. I walked, dreamlike, up the stairs and into my parents' room. Inside my father's dresser drawer I found what I sought… a loaded revolver. Since Japanese civilians aren't allowed to possess firearms, my dad took advantage of the privilege in America. He had kept it nearby just in case of a robbery.
As I recalled this tearfully, I raised the gun to my head… and someone knocked on the door. Quickly, I shoved the gun back into my dad's dresser and rushed downstairs to answer it. There, in the doorway stood three police officers and a news reporter from an international news station. "Hi," I said unemotionally, "can I help you with something?"
"Yes, Miss Matsuyama," one officer said, "a call from a cellular phone found at Ground Zero was traced to this location. If I'm not mistaken, it was with your parents' bodies…?"
"Yessir," I replied politely. "Come inside and sit everyone," I said, gesturing gently into the living room.
They said their thank-yous and sat down as the reporter began to speak. "I just wanted to ask you a few questions, Miss Matsuyama, if that's all right," she told me warmly.
"Of course," I replied and managed a weak smile. The camera man began to organize his equipment. For a couple of hours I was interviewed on live TV, a broadcast see worldwide. Among her questions, the reporter asked about my parents, my friends, school, my grades, and many other things.
They finally left and said their condolences as they did so, thanking me as well. I had temporarily forgotten about the gun, and fixed my empty stomach some lunch. Ramen happened to be the best thing I could find.
...
Sharon and I went shopping that evening and I returned to school the following morning, the 13th… the day they were supposed to return. Whispers about the broadcast and what had happened followed me down every hallway, but no questions were asked.
...
Several days passed, and during that time I was almost always with Sharon. She cheered me up, and was the only life in my soul at the time. Exactly one week after the interview, my life changed for the better… unfortunately, it was a life that did not involve Sharon.
End Part III