"Are you sure you don't want to come?" Anne asked as she finished applying her make-up on.
"Yes," Susan muttered. She had a book in front of her eyes that Lucy had loved, but she wasn't reading. It only served as an obstacle between her and Anne. How she wished Anne would hurry up and go to her stupid party!
"Well, suit yourself." Anne stood up and smoothed her hair as she surveyed herself in the mirror. Then she turned around and faced Susan. "Do I look alright?"
"Yes, you look fine." Susan didn't look up from the book.
"Why don't you drop that book and pay attention to me for a moment?" Anne demanded. Susan could tell that her friend probably had her hands on her hips and a scowl on her face, but she didn't look up to check. What was the use, anyway?
"It's been two months since it happened. School has started and your grades are terrible," Anne continued. Susan didn't bother to comment that Anne's grades were even worse than hers, and she herself was actually doing better than last year because now she was actually trying. Schoolwork was something she could bury herself into and forget her worries.
"You don't wear black, and yet you're still acting as if life is a funeral. You really are strange," Anne flung out at her supposed friend, turned on her heel, and left the room, slamming the door behind her.
Finally.
Susan put down The Treasure Seekers and breathed a sigh of relief. Finally now she could do what she had been waiting to do, the thing that she had made up her mind to do two months ago. This was the first time that the house was vacated since the day it happened.
She should have done it while Anne and her parents were still gone that day. Then she wouldn't have had to see their calm, still faces. She wouldn't have had to live through all this pain.
But now, her chance had finally come. She could finally end all this pain. End this suffering. And if there was a Heaven up there and she got there...
No. There was no God. How could there be a God when she was going through this all?
Susan Pevensie, stop thinking. Just get this done. No point dwelling on the past. Just get out of the house and get this job done.
There was no time like the present.