manda . r a i

[[WHY]] PAGE TWO

Her parents knew something was wrong the instant they walked in the door. The house was deathly silent. Her mother called out Amber's name, trying to find her. No music was coming from her room, the phone was not busy. Those were regular routines for Amber, turn on music, talk on phone. Not that day though, that day it was quiet, eerily quiet. "Amber?" Her mother had called out again and again. She was frantic then. Amber's father had tried to calm her down, telling her that she must have gone to a friend's house without telling them. Her mother refused to believe that. No, not her Amber. Her Amber would always tell her where she went. Her Amber was a perfect child, always obedient and trustful. She often boasted about Amber's abilities to her friends. Now what's happened to her?! Where is Amber? Her mother ran through the whole house, in a fury of fear. What has happened to Amber? Where is she?! Her father had realized something was wrong by then. He went to the phone and called all of Amber's friends, trying to locate her. No one knew where she was. Obviously she wasn't with any of them, and she wasn't at home. Her father sat by the phone, twiddling his fingers. Abruptly a scream rang through the house. Her father immediately jumped up from the chair, knowing that something was wrong. Totally and completely wrong. He dashed upstairs, recognizing his wife was screaming from the attic. "What's wrong?!" He had yelled. He heard no answer. Instead he heard muffled sobs and whimpers.

Increasing his pace he boomed up the stairs and into the attic. What he saw he could not believe. His Amber, his one and only Amber. His beautiful child, hanging from the roof beams. Her head lolled to one side, a thick rope wrapped around her neck. Her arms dangled uselessly by her side, limp and lifeless. Her long dirty blonde hair hung over half of her face, but he could see that her eyes were closed, and her mouth locked tight. He fell to his knees in agony, covering his face with his hands as he let out a loud and maniacal yell. Amber's mother turned around, finally noticing that her husband had come in. Bawling and crying, she made her way over to her husband, crawling on all fours. She was too weak to stand. He took her into his arms and she whimpered on his shoulder. They cried together for hours while Amber, their one and only Amber, hung above them. She was gone. Gone forever.

They couldn't bear to watch when the police came and took her down. They put her on a stretcher, covering her whole body with a white sheet, and wheeled her out of the house. Amber's parents stood at the door, pressed against each other for support. Their eyes were already swollen from crying, their tears flowed as freely as a waterfall. They turned away and sat down together on the couch, staring into space. Thinking. Thinking perhaps, of why she did it. Why? They didn't know.

Her mother slowly started upstairs to Amber's room, to look for a reason why. Why Amber killed herself. She grew angry. Angry at Amber for taking her life, and leaving her with nothing. Nothing at all, except a question. No more Amber, never again will she see Amber's smiling face come through the door. She rummaged through Amber's desk, hoping to find something to explain it all. She found a envelope. A small little envelope, in Amber's writing, addressed to her mother and father. Cautiously she went downstairs to her husband, clutching the envelope to her heart. This was her last connection to Amber. Trembling, she opened the envelope, and pulled out a small piece of paper, folded in half, decorated in Amber's stationery. With shaking hands, she unfolded it. It was a poem.

Born to live,
And born to die,
Does anyone ask
The reason why?
What is the reason
Of why we live
and
Why we die,
Why must we live
In order to die?
I don't know the answer
But I know the question
is
Why?

A handwritten note was scrawled at the bottom of the poem. Amber's mother felt tears stream down her cheeks as she read it.

Do not worry about me
I am at peace
I have gone to find the answer
The answer to
"Why?"

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