vi: lucas (after)
Twenty-three hours and six minutes. That's how long he was in agony. The seventh minute is the minute he died.
He was hit at 11:24PM on the Sunday. He died at 10:30PM on the Monday.
Twenty-three hours and six minutes.
You finally broke down on the Tuesday after. It was 8:54AM, in your form class. Your teacher stood up, and pulled out an obviously well-rehearsed speech. You slung your head between your knees and cried as she spoke.
"As some of you may know, on Sunday a sixteen-year-old boy had been hit by a vehicle while they were on their way home from a friend's house," she paused, and breathed. "Many of you in here may know him. His name was Farkle Minkus, and he was a beautiful soul. So talented, in so many different ways. Photographer, dancer. He will be greatly missed."
You can see tears spilling from her eyes, and the skin around is rapidly turning red. She turns to hide her face from you and the rest of the class. Everyone misses Farkle. The dance kids miss having him in their classes, same with the photography kids. Especially you. You miss the little guy, soso much. It hurts, there's a pain in your chest. A gaping hole left in the centre of your chest. Agony.
Agony. It's something you rarely experience. Agony over the total loss of your bestfriend in the entire world. He's a better friend than Zay.
He was.
Your form teacher comes over to you, and passes you a tissue.
"Lucas," she said sweetly, "If you want to go home, you can."
And you did.