Chapter 1
I assumed it was another 'push' the moment I caught a glimpse of something falling past our classroom�s window. At first, we all thought it was one of the Upper Senior students clowning around again from above. They had a notorious reputation of chucking unpopular lower freshmen school bags to the ground 10 stories high from the rooftop as part of their 'initiation' into Rosedale High. Sure, they got detention and suspension for their childish pranks but that never deterred them from continuing their asinine tradition. After awhile, we pretty much got used to it as it was a momentary break from our everyday school life and we would look forward every month for at least a 'push', which we had affectionally called them.
It was only a few minutes later when we heard a sharp female scream from the ground below that we knew that something was wrong.
Old man Garyson told us to stay in our seats but we ignored him after seeing a few other students from the other classrooms clamouring for the staircase to see what was going on. A couple more screams and gasps from below had piqued our curiosity even further as we rushed down the stairs, and when we had finally reached the ground floor we soon realised the horror behind the cries of terror. Lying there in a small pool of blood on the pavement of the ground level of Rosedale High was Alan Hatterfield. With his skull split open, we could see pieces of brain matter floating in the growing puddle of the dark red liquid next to his head. His left leg and both arms were bent the other way: obviously broken no doubt from the impact of his fall.
By now, a crowd of students and teachers had already formed a small circle around Alan's body. A couple girl students fainted while a guy threw up his lunch into a nearby bush. The rest were captivated by the grisly scene. One of the homeroom teachers Mr Huntly told the students to back off and go back to their classes as he attempted to be in charge, but I could tell from the expression on his face and his stuttering voice that he too was just as shocked as the other students. I doubt he had ever seen a corpse in his life as well. We returned to our classes somewhat reluctantly and waited for the school PA, hearing the telltale sirens of the police and ambulance from afar 5 minutes later.
When the cops and medics had arrived and cleared away Alan's body, the school counsellors were called in. The student association handled the whole situation pretty smoothly: classes were cancelled for the day, and those who knew Alan or had been traumatised by his death had to see the counsellor first before they could go home. Yeah. Real sensitive. Anyway, I was one of the Alan's 'close friends', so I had to stop by the office as well.
Miss Ponyatail was on duty, which meant it wasn't going to be too bad an ordeal. With her golden-brown hair tied in a bun and thick rimmed glasses, she looked perfect for the part of a typical librarian. She's probably the nicest counsellor around Rosedale High since she's usually so chirpy and upbeat in her sessions which contrasted with the plain whitewashed office walls and the algae green curtains that donned the windows. Yet she managed to give the place a touch of her personality by always having a bowl full of brightly coloured candy and chewy treats by her table for the students. Cute.
That day however she seemed more serious and sombre. I think it was because this was her first time dealing with a teen suicide in our school and she had only been here for less than a year, so she stuck to the rules in her old psych book guidelines. She offered me a drink when I entered the stale-smelling room littered with with files and cabinets around, but I declined. When she asked me if I was feeling alright by Alan's sudden 'departure', I just mentioned that I was mildly shocked by his suicide but otherwise A-OK.
But then, I suddenly broke down in tears.
The whole thing was fucking beautiful: it played out like an emotional climax scene from an Oscar winning movie. The moment I wiped my tears away from my eyes, she deftly reached for a box of Kleenex and handed it to me like she had already done with the dozen of students she had counselled before like a real professional. She tried to soothe me with words like "There there...it's not your fault. It's okay...just let it all out," In truth, I did feel some guilt on my part since a few of us had suspected something wasn't right when Alan didn't return to class 5B after lunch break. We thought he went to take a piss or something. How wrong we were.
After a few more minutes of weeping and calming words of encouragement from Miss Ponyatail, it was time for the next traumatised student to be counselled. When I opened the door, I saw a bob of red hair sobbing uncontrollably into a hanky. It was Akisha, with Penya by her side trying to comfort her. Akisha looked up and when our eyes met each other, she stopped crying and stared back at me with her eyes still wet and red from tears. Penya looked at me as well, but I didn't say anything to either one of them and neither did they. I just wanted to leave quickly, so I left them and walked back to my classroom to grab my things.
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