《The Mystery Death of Camellia Hills》


 Chapter 1

    ¡°Love? You want my opinion on love? Why does this correlate with anything that happened?¡±


    I say that as if I don¡¯t have the perfect answer. Love is simply fake. Everything is fake. Nothing is real. Agree with me or not, it¡¯s fake. Let¡¯s say a girl and boy get into a relationship, they progress to saying ¡°I love you¡± like they know what it means. The relationship continues for about 6 months or so and they start having problems. The boy isn¡¯t paying attention, he¡¯s always out with his quote-on-quote friends, and the girl just wants it to be like how it was at the beginning. They break up but the girl is still obviously ¡°in love¡± with the boy. While he is already saying stuff like ¡°I never loved her¡± or ¡°I already have 5 chicks going after me. I never needed her.¡± Then proceeds to do it over and over again until he realizes that the first girl he was with is the ¡°only one¡± for him. While she¡¯s thriving, not have one singular thought about him. I suppose all relationships aren¡¯t like that but my guess would be at least 85% are like that.


    ¡°It correlates to what happened because you are our number one suspect at this moment.¡± Number one suspect? Hah. Lies. I saw another person walk into this place who goes to my school who knows just about the same as I do.


    ¡°Fine. Are you married? Bet that marriage won¡¯t last long due to some addiction you or your wife may carry. Is that enough for my opinion on love?¡±


    Bonehead cop. That was such a pathetic question. It had nothing to do with what happened. He¡¯s perverted in the head, isn¡¯t he? He probably wanted me to say ¡°Oh but love is such a wonderful feeling. It doesn¡¯t matter how old or young you are. Love is love.¡± Ew, that¡¯s so disgusting.


    ¡°Uh-huh. Onto the last few questions ma¡¯am. I need your focus at all time. This is not the time to be making jokes.¡±


    Yawn. He¡¯s so dull. ¡°Okay then. Continue. I¡¯ll keep my ¡®jokes¡¯ to myself.¡± He does realize I¡¯m definitely a lot smarter than him. I have a brighter future than he has and he¡¯s a damn cop. Whatever, I¡¯m too tired to continue this mess of a conversation with this cop.


    ¡°Alright continuing on. You and the victim were quite close, right? As I have heard, you guys had been friends since the third grade. Isn¡¯t that correct?¡± He says it as if I didn¡¯t know who my own best friend was and how long the friendship was.


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    ¡°Yes, we were. Known them since I started remembering.¡±


    This is getting boring. I had nothing to do with what happened and they still want to question me. ¡°Going off of what I have heard, you guys were having problems the last few weeks. You weren¡¯t talking to her and she wasn¡¯t talking to you. If I am correct, it was over a boy. Is that right ma¡¯am?¡±


    This weird feeling came across my body. It was a kind of anxious sensation but along with anger. I don¡¯t want to answer the question but I have to. The anger part is just me wanting to punch him due to asking that. That odd feeling went away and I finally spoke after a few minutes of stuttering.


    ¡°I¡ª uhm. Yes. That is what happened. We, uhm, we got into an argument over a boy and it caused us to stop talking because we thought we both equally needed a small break from each other.¡± That sounds horrible hearing it out loud. It sounds awful. My body feels like it¡¯s shaking but I can¡¯t tell if it¡¯s from how freezing this room is and the fact I don¡¯t have my jacket, or because of the anxiety that was building and finally came out because of what he asked. It¡¯s probably both though, mainly the anxiety.


    ¡°Okay. Can we have the name of this boy?¡± He started getting ready to write in his little notepad. ¡°Then afterward, can you tell me why exactly you two were arguing over this specific guy?¡±


    The shaking starts getting worse to the point I¡¯m stuttering almost everything I say. ¡°I, uhm, yes. H¡ª His name? It, uhm, it¡¯s Noah, Noah, uhm, Noah Jones.¡± Crap. I sound like a moron. ¡°C-can I, uhm, can I get a chance to breathe please? I- uhm, I just need a moment.¡± Crap. I can¡¯t think. What¡¯s wrong with me? Why did that question bother me?


    That bonehead cop writes the name down then starts to stand up. ¡°That¡¯s alright. Five minutes, max. I will be back around,¡± he started to check his watch and stared at it intensely. Can he not read a watch? ¡°I¡¯ll be back to continue the questions around 1:15. Like I said, five minutes is the maximum time. If you¡¯re ready, just knock on the window.¡±


    He starts to walk to the door so he can leave. He opens the door, exits, and leaves. Five minutes? Really? That¡¯s not enough time. Whatever, I have to make the most of what I got. Why can¡¯t I talk? My body is still shaking, badly, and I don¡¯t know how to stop. Only if¡­ she was here. She¡¯d know what to do. After all, she is my best friend, or I guess in this case, was my best friend. Hard to face the fact she¡¯s gone now. What if we still talked? What if we hung out that one day? What if we never stopped talking? She would still be here. I know she would¡¯ve been. It¡¯s in my guts that she would. I never hated her. Why would I? There¡¯s nothing to hate.


    Crap, crap, crap, I¡¯m starting to cry. I can¡¯t. I have to be strong. Just take deep breaths and I¡¯ll be fine. Inhale, exhale. Just breathe. Finally, the tears are gone. The shaking has calmed down. I¡¯m alright. I¡¯m okay, or well technically, I will be okay. I¡¯m not okay right now. My best friend is dead.

 Chapter 2

    She was so excited for college. The most I¡¯ve ever seen her before. She was almost there. She would talk about it nonstop, more than she would talk about anything. She had it all planned out: she was going to go to a culinary school and build a bakery from the ground up, and if that didn¡¯t work, her backup was going to be a chef. She loved cooking. It was her favorite thing. Hopefully, that was the last thing she did before she took her last breath¡­


    Has it been five minutes yet? I can think now. Kind of. I should at least be able to form a sentence. I just need to get this over with. I don¡¯t know how much longer I can take this cop questioning me; he¡¯s getting on my nerves and I want to punch him but I¡¯ll just be in here a lot longer than I want to be.


    What¡¯s that sound? Is that the door opening? Oh, finally, the five minutes are over. He walks over to the chair right in front of me and puts his notepad on the table along with his arms. I want to get this over with. ¡°Five minutes are up. Can you speak now?¡±


    Such a jerk for what? ¡°Yes. I can. You don¡¯t have to be rude about it.¡± Probably should¡¯ve kept that to myself. You know what? I don¡¯t care. He started it first. Just, hopefully, 10 more minutes of this and it¡¯ll all be over and I can go home and sleep.


    ¡°Uh-huh. Okay, ma¡¯am. Can you answer my previous question? Why did you and the victim get into an argument over this,¡± he pauses to look at his notepad then clears his throat. ¡°Noah Jones boy?¡± A small chill went down my spine hearing that name. Why? I don¡¯t know nor do I want to worry about it.


    ¡°Basically, No¡ª, ahem, he was her boyfriend and he would tell her I was making moves on him, when I never was, and she would believe him over me. Although, he would always try to flirt with me and every time I would reject him and tell Cam- ahem, my best friend but then he would lie to her and show her fake texts. We decided to stop talking for a little bit because we thought we needed a break.¡±


    I can¡¯t even say her name. I can¡¯t use past tense in the same sentence with her name knowing it¡¯ll never be in the present tense. It¡¯s okay. I should be done soon. Hopefully, that was the last question.


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    He writes in his stupid notepad over what I said. ¡°Uh-huh. Great. That should be all ma¡¯am. Thanks for your time. Also, some advice for a teen like you, respect your elders. I may be years older but that doesn¡¯t mean I deserve any less respect than you do.¡±


    Great. A questioning and a lecture. ¡°Yep. Will do. Can I go now? I¡¯ve been here for a little over thirty minutes. It¡¯s freezing in here and I don¡¯t have my jacket.¡± I don¡¯t want to be here anymore. I¡¯m so sick of this. I just want to go home.


    ¡°Uhh, yes you can go. Just go check out from the front.¡± I start getting up from my chair, then right as my hand is on the handle, the cop starts talking again.


    ¡°Kid, before you go, you can make it through this. I know she was your best friend but she¡¯s in a better place now. All you can do is continue and finish your life. I¡¯m sure that¡¯s what she would¡¯ve wanted.¡±


    I start feeling the tears building up but I just suck them up and just stare at him blankly before thinking of anything to say. I never thought I would hear that from a total stranger, that stranger being a cop and who he¡¯s talking about is my best friend.


    ¡°Uhm. Will do. Thank you.¡± I pull the lever and open the door and I walk out. He said it with such ease. ¡°I¡¯m sure that¡¯s what she would¡¯ve wanted.¡± How would you know? You have never cared about her until last week. You didn¡¯t know her and now you never will. He won¡¯t know how kind, loving, talkative, and funny she was. Whatever. I just need my stuff and I need to check out.


    I walk up front to the front desk so I can get the hell out of this place. ¡°Hi, ma¡¯am. Last name, is Smith. First name, Valerie. I¡¯m here to get my stuff.¡± The receptionist is a woman in her mid-50s I would say. She seems sweet. Wonder how her life is going. Would she be okay if her best friend died?


    Wait what? What am I saying? I- I didn¡¯t¡­ What¡¯s coming over me? ¡°Here you go,¡± she starts handing me my jacket and phone. ¡°Have a good day!¡±


    ¡°Yeah, you too.¡± I grabbed my stuff and checked my phone to see what I missed. Nothing. Usually, my phone has missed texts from Camellia. She would always text me about what I missed, which was basically everything. Called me whenever we both got home from school.


    I finally get ready to walk out of the police station and I start to pull the glass door open. The sun starts hitting my face as I open the door and walk out. I¡¯m finally out of this place. I can now officially put this behind me. Maybe that cop was right. She would want me to continue life all the way to the end.

 Chapter 3

    I finally started walking to the nearest bus stop, which was kind of a distance away, but if I just kept walking, I should be there in time for the bus. Maybe a few minutes before the bus. I start looking in my pockets to see if I have a quarter or two. Crap. I don¡¯t. Ugh, how far away is my house from the police station? My mom is at work and I don¡¯t have anyone else to pick me up. I start pulling my phone out from my jacket pocket so I can see how far the police station is from my house.


    As I started to put in the address of the police station and the address of my house, someone texted me. It¡¯s from the school spam group.


    At the beginning of the year, the school thought it was a good idea to have everyone¡¯s phone number so it¡¯s easier to spread news and get information for upcoming tests, events, and more. In my opinion, it was completely pointless. Just send spam emails.


    The first thing I read was his name. Noah Jones. That horrible guy. He ruined me and Camellia¡¯s friendship. What did he have to say now? I pressed on the text notification that had popped up on the top of my screen and it changed the tabs from Maps to Messages.


    ¡°As u guys all know my gf Camellia Hills died this past week Im holding a party in favor of her


    Its on Friday and starts at 6:00pm and ends whenever u leave¡±


    What the hell? He¡¯s throwing a damn party in the name of Camellia? No, he cannot be doing this. He¡¯s just using her name as an excuse to throw a party at the worst possible time ever. I can¡¯t let this slide. No way in hell will this ever be okay.


    I start typing, in response to his text. ¡°Thats one of the worst excuses to throw a party at one of the worst times. All u guys will do is js drink and not even have ONE singular thing abt ur ¡°gf¡± Grow tf up.¡±


    I start thinking about whether I should send that. Maybe others will say it for me. My reputation is already low enough, it¡¯ll probably go down even more if I send that text. Actually, no. You know what? Who cares? My best friend is dead and we stopped talking because of him. No way am I going to allow the person who ruined our friendship go do whatever he wants under her name.


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    After a few seconds of holding my thumb over the send message button, I finally sent it. I don¡¯t care if the entire school will hate me even more or start some riot against me for speaking up to him, he¡¯s using her name to do whatever he wants and that¡¯s just messed up. I knew he never cared about her. I knew it deep in my guts. I hate him. With a burning passion.


    After I sent the message, I switched back onto Maps to finish putting in my home address. So far, it doesn¡¯t seem bad. 10-minute drive, hopefully walking won¡¯t be longer. I can¡¯t afford a car and neither can my mom. She¡¯s already working 2 jobs and we only have enough for one car. A rustic, or as she likes to call it, authentic, dark, red truck that looks like it¡¯s been through WW1.


    Holy¡­ it¡¯ll take me a full hour to walk from the police station to my house. No way am I doing that. I start rummaging through my jacket pocket again and start shaking it like crazy, begging that I have a quarter. I know for a fact I brought two. One for my way here, one for my way back home. W¡ª what? W¡ª where is it? I know I KNOW, I have it. I have to have it. I- I just have to have it. I know I did.


    I hear a ding that came from my phone but I don¡¯t even care. It¡¯s probably Noah or anyone attacking me for being right. I put my hand in the inside pocket of my gray jacket and I start feeling a sense of relief as I feel the anxiety leaving my body. I found it. I found that damn quarter. I look up and I see that the bus is here, so I start running so I don¡¯t miss it. I start, dramatically, waving my hands so the bus driver, who¡¯s probably a 60-year-old man or woman, so they don¡¯t miss me.


    I got lucky. The bus driver saw me and stopped driving before they left the bus stop. I continue running until I get to the bus. It¡¯s a bit smaller than usual. It has its orange and black stripes with hints of yellow in between them. Interesting color scheme, I suppose. Stands out.


    I got on the bus, and walked up the small stairs, extremely out of breath because I ran for my life to get on there. I said hi to the bus driver and once I made eye contact, I knew I was correct. It was a man in his mid-60s, whatever. Not important. I put my quarter in the little coin dispenser, walked onto the bus, and chose a window seat so I could just put on my headphones and look out the window.


    Hah, it¡¯s cloudy, yet the clouds seem super white. That was Camellia¡¯s favorite type of weather to see. To her, it seemed funny.


    She would always say, ¡°Hey! Oh my gosh!! The white clouds are making the world seem gray! Is it because they¡¯re undercover dark clouds and they don¡¯t want to reveal themselves? Haha!¡±


    Sometimes I really couldn¡¯t tell if she did mean what she said half of the time but she still made me laugh. She was such a joyous person. Why would she ever do this to herself? She told me everything, or I thought so.

 Chapter 4

    I finally got the motivation to check my phone ever since I had sent my last text about Noah throwing his damned party a week after her passing. Before I even checked my phone, the bus driver stopped at one of the bus stands. I looked up to see who was getting on this empty, dull bus. As I watched the person talking to the bus driver, I was able to get a good look at his face.


    It was some kid that goes to my school. He¡¯s in one of my classes but I never cared enough to pay attention to his name when the teacher called roll call. I¡¯m pretty sure I had him in one of my groups though, for some school project. I think his name started with a ¡®D¡¯ or something like that.


    ¡°You too, sir,¡± he starts muttering to himself as if there¡¯s no one on this bus, which is basically true. It was just me and the bus driver, now him. ¡°Old man. I¡¯m surprised he can see.¡±


    He started chuckling a little while he was on his phone, which looked like it was halfway through death, and he finally took a seat, which had to be the seat next to me.


    I never had an opinion on a lot of people at my school but I definitely had one on him. He¡¯s rude to the point that if he were to be nice, people would think he was joking around and being a bigger jerk. He would be one of those people who I don¡¯t like, at all. Yet, I find him interesting, if so, amusing. I don¡¯t know why. Therefore, my opinion of him: he¡¯s certainly interesting but not the type where I would want to voluntarily be friends with him, let alone even talk to him. Seems like torture if I were to even try to engage in conversation with him out of all people


    Hopefully, he won¡¯t try to start a conversation with me. Almost everyone at our school randomly goes up to me and says ¡°Oh I¡¯m so sorry for your loss.¡± Then they walk away. One, I don¡¯t even know them. Two, don¡¯t feel sorry for me and leave me alone. Your pathetic little sorries don¡¯t do anything. They won¡¯t bring her back, won¡¯t they?


    I ignored him and just stared out the window. Then I felt a buzz in my jacket. Oh crap, I completely forgot about the text Noah had sent and what I said back. I forgot to check it. Let¡¯s see who is going to curse me out this time.


    ¡°I mean, she is right. Ur hosting a party at the worst times possible. Under Camellia¡¯s name is what is sadder¡±


    Wow, someone actually agrees with me. That¡¯s new. I thought I was going to receive hell for being right. People are finally using their brains for once. I felt a random tap on my shoulder, which scared the hell out of me. What does he even want?


    ¡°Hey, aren¡¯t you Valerie? The dead girl''s best friend?¡±


    Well, that¡¯s one way to remember me. ¡®The dead girl¡¯s best friend.¡¯ He doesn¡¯t even know her name, yet knows mine. Her name has been all over the school news and news in general. How does he not know? ¡°I guess.¡±


    I didn¡¯t want to answer that question. Being remembered as the ¡®dead girl¡¯s best friend¡¯ isn¡¯t exactly the best way to be remembered. Also, who just says that to people? If he knew my name, how come he doesn¡¯t know hers? And if he knew Camellia is¡ª was my best friend, why would he just say that?


    ¡°Great. I¡¯m Devon. I¡¯m in your science period. Don¡¯t you remember? I was in your group for that stupid project.¡±


    Oh, I definitely remember. Never do I want to work with him ever again. He didn¡¯t do anything and even if he did, all he did was write a sentence then he would go back to sleep.


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    ¡°Could I get your number? I know you don¡¯t entirely know me, but I''ve been in your shoes before. It¡¯s not a pleasant feeling, plus I¡¯m, like, a hundred percent sure you have, like, no friends, so today is your lucky day.¡±


    See, that¡¯s when you can¡¯t tell if he¡¯s being nice or trying to rub in your face what¡¯s happening to you. What really caught me by surprise was the fact he said ¡®I¡¯ve been in your shoes before.¡¯ That¡¯s something new. It¡¯s things like this that make him interesting. You never know what he¡¯s going to say. You also never know if he genuinely means what he¡¯s saying.


    I had a confused and shocked look on my face. I could process everything he had just said. I¡¯m surprised he remembered that I was in his group. Shocked that he just asked for my number and that he said he¡¯d been through this before. I¡¯m also a tiny bit offended because he basically called me friendless¡ª even though he¡¯s not entirely wrong but to me, he¡¯s basically a stranger and you don¡¯t just say that to strangers.


    ¡°Uhh, hello? Anyone there? I¡¯m asking you a question. Can it be answered? It doesn¡¯t take that long to answer that simple question.¡±


    He started waving his phone in front of my eyes like I couldn¡¯t see it. He¡¯s seriously annoying. Why does he want my number? What is he going to do? Nothing he says will help me feel better about my best friend dying.


    ¡°Get your phone out of my face, please. I just needed a minute to get a grasp of everything you had said. You, one, called me friendless, two asked if you could have my number, and three said you have been in my shoes before. A person can¡¯t just simply process that in the span of a few seconds, especially being told that from someone like you. Never mind, just unlock your phone. I¡¯ll put my number in it.¡±


    I probably came off a lot ruder than what I wanted to but I don¡¯t even care. He does what I just did all the time. What is he going to do? Whine about it? It¡¯s just hypocritism at that point.


    ¡°Great,¡± he starts to unlock his shattered, broken phone and opens up the Contacts tab on it. How can he even type on that without his fingers getting cut? He started handing me his phone, ¡°Here.¡±


    I grabbed his phone and started pressing the numbers that were on the screen. After a millisecond of silence, I hit the green call button that was under the digital keypad and my phone started buzzing once his number called mine. I hung up the phone since he was just right next to me. I guess I¡¯m going to have to text him first.


    Ugh, this entire thing is just stupid. What point does this serve? What could he possibly do that could help me through this? If he had been through this before then he should know that nothing people say will ever help the situation and all you want to do is shut everyone out.


    ¡°Here,¡± I started giving him his phone back. ¡°Why do you even want it in the first place? We have never talked and this is our second interaction with each other. You didn¡¯t talk during the project, all you did was sleep and you wrote one sentence out of that entire thing.¡±


    He took his phone back and just shrugged at me like that would answer my question.


    ¡°I don¡¯t know. You seem cool and I thought you needed someone to talk to. Like I said, I¡¯ve been through this before. Rather have at least one person instead of zero, so I just thought since you don¡¯t have anyone, you have me, unless you want that one person to be your mom.¡±


    He had a point but he didn¡¯t have to say I didn¡¯t have anyone. I mean I do have my mom and my dad. Well, my mom is working all the time and my dad doesn¡¯t know who Camellia is, plus he sucks at comforting, it would be worse since he lives in another state. I guess he is right, my mom wouldn¡¯t understand or even be there physically for me. I still love her, though, she probably wouldn¡¯t be the best person for me to run to at this time.


    ¡°Well, okay, that¡¯s one way to describe my social circle. Fine. Thank you,¡± even though you just insulted me. ¡°That¡¯s considerate of you, I guess.¡±


    The bus finally got to the bus stop close to my house and I got up from my seat and walked past him. I guess it was nice to see someone who might be on my side, even if that person is calling me friendless.


    ¡°I know it is. Just another one of my selfless acts. Anyways, text me whenever.¡±


    He¡¯s conceited too. That¡¯s fun. I just want to go home. I was stuck at the police station for way longer than I wanted and being crammed in there felt hopeless. I walked to the front of the bus so I could walk down the small stairs the bus had built in and go home. I¡¯m over this day.

 Chapter 5

    I started walking home the minute I got off the bus. This day felt like a dream¡ª well maybe not a dream. More of a nightmare. I hate this day. It might not be the worst day because no horrible day tops the day I found out about Cam¡ª her death. I started looking around the houses that were in my neighborhood. They all look like they are about to break. That it¡¯s losing all of its support and they are about to fall apart.


    I mean, they provide everything a house is required to have. A roof, ceiling, floor, walls, and a door. They just all look like it¡¯s been through a lot. Probably because they have. I mean, this is more of the poverty neighborhoods but not exactly ¡°poor¡± poor. It¡¯s kind of like we¡¯re at the line of poverty, maybe just a bit ahead of the line but I mean, this neighborhood has given me a lot of memories that I¡¯ll never forget. I just don¡¯t know if that¡¯s good or not.


    I walked for a good two or so minutes until I finally got to my house. It was a dark brown-ish house, with a black roof, a white door, and two windows on each side of the door, and obviously, it was a one-story house. Why wouldn¡¯t it be? Honestly, it¡¯s just easier to live in. Less to clean. One problem, you would be cramped up but that¡¯s only if the other person that lived in this house with you was around. So it was never a problem for me.


    I took off my shoes, the hand-me-down that Camellia gave me because she never wore them and I needed a new pair of shoes and I couldn¡¯t afford any at that moment. They were just your regular black Converse except I took care of them. They look basically brand new.


    After I had taken my shoes off in the front, I opened my door walked straight into my room, and jumped right into my bed, to where I was facing my white-ish ceiling. No way could I fully believe any of this would happen. Starting from her death and ending with Devon wanting my number. Maybe I just need to take a shower. Showers usually help me refresh and clear my mind. I¡¯m just too tired to the point I can¡¯t even get up. I just want to take a nap.


    Buzz, Buzz, Buzz, Buzz.


    Why is my phone blowing up? Ugh, can¡¯t these people just shut up? It¡¯s just everyone from the stupid school group chat. Why can¡¯t they just not text? They did it all the time while Camellia was still alive. Why do they want to text suddenly once she¡¯s gone?


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    ¡°Dude, I was js tryna lighten up the mood. Everyone is so gloomy. I mean- im sad to but like chill.¡±


    ¡°Dude. Wdym ¡°chill¡± ur gf is dead idiot¡±


    ¡°Ik that but y live in the past?¡±


    ¡°Bc it¡¯s been a week since she¡¯s died-¡°


    ¡°O- yea. Right right. I mean, I knew that¡­ so who¡¯s open for a party a week from that Friday?¡±


    ¡°Wtf?¡±


    ¡°Whattttt¡­ I¡¯m tryna have fun¡±


    ¡°When ur gf is dead and her funeral hasn¡¯t even happened? It prob hasn¡¯t even been planned yet. Everyone is in mourning, why aren¡¯t u¡±


    ¡°Chill chill. I am, js chill. Fine fine no party¡±


    What the hell? Noah is such a dense moron. Whoever was responding to his text understands my point. Oh crap, that reminds me. I should probably text Devon. It¡¯s been a few minutes. You know what? I don¡¯t care. I¡¯ll text him in a little while. I¡¯m too tired. I¡¯ll text him after my nap. I finally got the energy to get up from my bed so I could change into my pajamas.


    As I was getting my pj¡¯s, I saw a shirt that Camellia and I had matched with one time. It was Christmas break and, of course, my mom was working. I had hung out with her family that breaks so I wasn¡¯t in my house. On Christmas Day, we thought, or basically, she thought it¡¯d be funny if we matched a shirt that had said ¡°Don¡¯t look, they¡¯re right there!¡± Then it was a red arrow pointing to the right and her shirt said ¡°Where? Over there?¡± And her shirt had a bigger red arrow, pointing to the right. I don¡¯t think anyone understood what it meant but we did and I guess that¡¯s what she had found funny.


    She was so happy. So bright. So energetic. Why would she do this? This isn¡¯t her. Or, well, it wasn¡¯t her.


    I could feel the tears forming in my eyes while I was putting on my shirt. The thoughts started forming in my head. ¡°Crap. It¡¯s all in the past. I just need to continue. Please, please, let me move on.¡±


    I wiped away the tears and fell back onto my small bed. I just need sleep. That¡¯s all. Nothing more, nothing less. I just need sleep and my head will be cleared. After my nap, I¡¯ll text Devon and see what he has to say. Which is probably nothing important or useful. He¡¯s not exactly someone you would want to go to for advice even if he knew a lot about what¡¯s happening.


    As I lay in bed, I can feel myself starting to get drowsy and the last thing I can remember looking at is my fan just rotating around, cooling me as I¡¯m under my blankets, and finally my eyes closed and all I see is pitch black.

 Chapter 6

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 Chapter 7

    I sat straight up from my bed. What the hell? This is all so new to me. I¡¯ve never been one to believe that my dreams or¡­ well¡­ whatever that was but could it possibly be true? Was it a murder case? Or am I just listening to my thoughts? Do I just go along with it? Do I go to her house? Do I just stay here? I don¡¯t know what to do.


    Are these just ways of coping with her death? What should I do? I mean I¡¯m not the type to just believe what I dream of but it seemed genuine. It was a dream after all¡­


    This reminded me about Devon and him wanting me to text him. Maybe if I were to talk to him I would be able to understand what that little blurb was.


    Or maybe I should just go to Camellia¡¯s house and go to her kitchen. Usually my thoughts can be right, maybe dreams can be right. I don¡¯t know though. Is this just a way to cope? I¡¯ve never had anything this traumatic since my parents divorce, and that didn¡¯t even have even half of the impact as the death of her did. Maybe I should text Devon. He should know what to do since he claims that he¡¯s been through this before.


    I grabbed my phone and pulled up his number from the missed call notification that was just sitting there for 30 minutes or more. I clicked the ¡°Message¡± option from the missed call notification. Maybe he¡¯ll be some form of help instead of being useless like he can be most of the time.


    ¡°Hey its Valerie. I need ur help with something¡±


    ¡°Oh hi it took u a while to text¡±


    ¡°Yep. Have u ever had a dream that the person that killed themselves reached out to u and say that they were killed by someone else and not themselves?¡±


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    A few moments had gone by and the text bubbles were popping off then they went away. I had just been sitting in silence for the past two minutes before I had added another text. He probably isn¡¯t responding because of how straightforward it is.


    ¡°¡­so???? Ik its super out of context but I need to if im crazy or not.¡±


    ¡°No I havent¡­ are u ok?¡±


    Why is he asking that when it is clear that I¡¯m not? If he really has been through this before, he should know that I¡¯m not okay. Especially when I ask a question like that.


    ¡°No im not. But wtv. I was asking to see if u have bc it happened to me. It said that I should go to her house and go to the kitchen. Idk if I should though¡±


    ¡°U should. An interaction like that isnt js random. It could mean something¡±


    ¡°Lets not feed into my delusion that Camellia didnt kill herself. Everything pointed to a suicide its js a dream anyway¡±


    ¡°No u rlly should go to her house. Those interactions could mean u can like predict the truth or something. I can go with u¡±


    ¡°Idk if her parents would be ok with that. Her parents knew all her friends and u guys werent¡±


    ¡°I can js say im there for moral support and u didnt want to go by urself¡±


    ¡°Ig fine.¡±


    ¡°Cool. U want me to pick u up? I got a car¡±


    ¡°Yea sure¡±


    ¡°Alr see u¡±


    I didn¡¯t respond to the last thing he said because I didn¡¯t know what else to say. There wasn¡¯t anything else to say. I let a hot-head make a decision that didn¡¯t make any sense. It was a dream, not Camellia herself saying she was murdered. Ugh, why did I text him about this? Now I have to go back to her house. Am I even ready for that? Hopefully I will be.


    I don¡¯t have time to wonder about it at this moment. I just need to put my bra on and wait for him to come by.


    ¡°O uh btw, what¡¯s ur address? Forgot to ask that¡±


    ¡°Right. It¡¯s **** at Lane Av¡±


    ¡°Ok omw¡±


    Hopefully, I¡¯ll be ready. I¡¯m terrified to see what happens¡­

 Chapter 8

    As I was waiting for Devon to get to my house, I was going through old photos. Most of them were just pictures of Camellia and me. We were always with each other for anything. She was¡­ she meant the world to me. And the fact she might¡¯ve been murdered makes me sick to my stomach. Who would want to murder her? She was everything anyone could ask for.


    While I was scrolling through my photos, I found a picture of me, my mom, and my dad. It was all from when I was younger. We were such a happy family. My dad and my mom were planning to either adopt a pet or have another kid, which neither of those happened because something went down between them. Apparently, my dad cheated on my mom because she wasn¡¯t ¡®providing¡¯ him what he deserved in the marriage. For a long time, I always blamed my dad. My mom did everything but yet it wasn¡¯t enough for him. But, after a few years, I got older and I stopped blaming him. There was nothing to blame for anymore. He tried making everything right but not to get back together with her, because I¡¯m sure he knew he already messed up big time, but tried making everything okay because of me.


    Whatever, I don¡¯t have time to be thinking about the past. It happened when I wasn¡¯t old enough to know or process anything. Only reason as to why I know anything aside from the fact my parents are divorced is because my mom told her friends everything when I was ten. And when I say everything, I mean everything. She told them everything that went wrong with anything. Which I think is kind of sad because I¡¯m literally her daughter and the most I know is her name, age, what she does, and what stupid boyfriend she brings over. I wish she would listen to me sometimes. I would¡¯ve told her to stop with her in-and-out boyfriends and that it isn¡¯t doing anything but hurting her. But, she¡¯s never here to listen, and when she is here, she¡¯s either sleeping or with her boyfriend in her room. I still love her though, she just isn¡¯t always present.


    I finally heard someone knock on the door. It¡¯s probably Devon, aside from Camellia, no one ever visited me. I got up from my bed and started walking to the front of the door. I put my hand on the brown or gold round handle and open the door. But I didn¡¯t look who exactly was in front of me. I just opened the door then walked away so I can get some small things I needed.


    ¡°Hey, Devon, when we get to her house, you need to act like you¡¯re actually there for emotional support rather than¡­¡± I finally looked up and saw who was standing in front of me. It was Noah damn Jones. What the hell did he want now? Does he want to invite me to some other party or come here to tell me to shut up? And how did he even get my address? Ugh, probably from Camellia. I love her dearly but she told him almost anything. Basically like my mom but better, I suppose.


    ¡°What the actual hell do you want now? And where did you get my address?¡± I¡¯m so sick of this dude. He¡¯s so privileged and is so lost in life but yet he acts like he isn¡¯t. Why does everyone like and adore him? I¡¯m done with him and his crap. ¡°You should leave, now. I¡¯m expecting someone and I don¡¯t need you here.¡±


    He just stood there, half looking at me and half looking at the ground. Is there something wrong with him? Well, something is wrong with him. He¡¯s just acting even more annoying then he has ever been before. I just need him to go. He doesn¡¯t need to know I¡¯m going to Camellia¡¯s house.


    ¡°I- I need your¡­ uhm, help,¡± he looks up at me fully and the first thing I noticed was his busted lip and his beat up eye and his arms look like as if he was in some stupid fight and he was trying to block the move or something. ¡°I- I know you hate me, especially with the stunt I pulled in the school group chat, but I don¡¯t know who else to go to and I¡¯ve heard your mom is a nurse. So I thought you would know a thing or two about¡­ this kind of stuff.¡±


    Who beat him up? I mean, I¡¯m not saying that he didn¡¯t deserve it, he definitely did, but he was beat up passed a lot of people¡¯s limits. Why isn¡¯t he going to his parents? Wouldn¡¯t they have a live-in nurse or something?


    ¡°Why aren¡¯t you going to your rich parents? Don¡¯t you guys have some kind of medical connection or something that makes doctors and nurses easily open to you guys? I have someone coming to get me. Can you ju¡ª¡± he interrupted me before I could tell him to leave my house but he just yelled it out like I wasn¡¯t just right in front of him.


    ¡°NO! I- I¡¯m NOT going to them¡­ th-they¡¯re the ones who DID THIS! Valerie, please¡­ just let me in, please! I- I can¡¯t go to them. I messed up. I don¡¯t think I¡¯m allowed back until nine. Please, just let me in. You were my last resort. Anyone else CANNOT see me like this. J-just let me in, PLEASE!¡±


    Oh. My. God. His own parents? I feel horrible now. I didn¡¯t know. I mean who would? He said he can¡¯t let anyone see. I stood in shock after hearing what he just yelled at me. I think my mouth was open just by a little and my eyes just immediately opened up in shock.


    ¡°I- I- uhm, y-yeah. Come on in. Sit on the couch over there. I- I¡¯ll get some ice. You¡¯ll be fine,¡± I ended up muttering to myself as I turned around so I could go to the kitchen and so he could walk into the house. ¡°Well, eventually you will.¡±


    ¡°Thank you,¡± he said as he walked into the house and started trying to find out where he should sit. ¡°I know you hate me, so this means a lot. I just¡­. your image of me is already low enough, might as well make it worse. I mean, there¡¯s no point in getting you to like me. I did you and Camellia wrong, and- uhm. Nevermind, too much. Sorry.¡±


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    He finally found where to sit on my black, broken-ish, couch. Which was the part of the couch where you can see a clear view of the kitchen. Maybe he thought I was going to poison him or that I was just going to escape out the backdoor so I wouldn¡¯t have to deal with him, which I wouldn¡¯t even trust him holding one thing in the house, let alone let him stay here alone.


    I walked to the fridge and got him a water bottle then bent down so I could go into the freezer and get an icepack for his eye. I¡¯m going to have to find something else for his lips and arms. But I¡¯ll deal with that when I¡¯m not having to think about everything all at once.


    I walked back into the living room and walked to the spot of the couch that Noah is sitting on. I sat down next to him on the couch and gave him the icepack and water bottle.


    ¡°Here. The icepack is for your eye and, well, you know what the water bottle is for. Unless you need to be told what it¡¯s for.¡± I shouldn¡¯t have said that. That was horrible timing, undermining his intelligence is something he didn¡¯t need at that moment.


    He just looked at me, almost like he was about to get mad, which I wouldn¡¯t blame him because his parents hit him and he came for me to help because he deemed everyone way too worthy to see him beat him. Probably because he¡¯s the one who¡¯s supposed to be making them look like how he looks.


    ¡°I am so sorry. Sorry, it just slipped out. I¡¯m not used to you being- I¡¯ll shut up. I¡¯m so sorry. That wasn¡¯t supposed to come out. It shouldn¡¯t have been thought. I¡¯m very sorry.¡±


    His expression went from looking pissed off, to neutral, to looking like someone said the funniest thing, when in reality, I said one of the worst things I could say at this moment. Well, maybe not the worst thing but something I shouldn¡¯t have said.


    He takes the stuff out of my hands and puts the icepack onto his black eye and just holds onto the water bottle. Then he started chuckling a little bit and then just had a pained look on his face. Like something was hurting him while he was laughing.


    ¡°Ha, ow, uhm, it¡¯s alright. I know this is a lot to ask of you but can I stay here? Usually, when I stay out of the house for the rest of the day when things like this happens, they prefer it when I don¡¯t come back until morning, even though I¡¯m technically allowed to come back around nine. It¡¯s just safer for me.¡±


    I don¡¯t know what to do. On one hand, I should do it. Sure he has done crappy, horrible things to me and Camellia, honestly a lot more people, but he¡¯s being hurt by his own parents. He¡¯s, I suppose, scared, for other people to see him beat up. He needs someone to stay with, but he''s definitely one of the reasons why I lost my best friend. I also need to go to Camellia¡¯s house today. Devon is already on his way. Well he should be. It¡¯s been probably ten or twenty minutes by now. Maybe he lives far away.


    ¡°I- uhm. Sure. My mom won¡¯t be here until, well, when nobody needs her. I¡¯ll text her that you¡¯ll be staying but I won¡¯t be here. But, please, do not touch a singular thing. Everything in here is super old and¡­yeah.¡±


    I shouldn¡¯t have told him yes. I should¡¯ve just said no. He¡¯s done too much for me to just open him to my home. But, at least it¡¯s safer than the streets. Or, he may be of use at Camellia¡¯s house. When, or at this point, if, me and Devon will go. We¡¯ll just have to see. Maybe I should ask him if he even has the strength to walk and go into her house. Maybe he does have a soul of some kind. Maybe a heart for Camellia? Did she change one of the worst teenagers I¡¯ve ever met? I don¡¯t think she was like that good of a person.


    ¡°Thank you. A lot. Uhm, if you don¡¯t mind me asking, where are you going? You keep bringing it up but that someone isn¡¯t here.¡±


    Ironically, I heard someone knocking on the door. Maybe just maybe Devon is finally here. Wait, what am I going to do with Noah? It¡¯s either bring him along or keep him here by himself.


    ¡°I¡¯ll- go get that. It¡¯s probably the person I was expecting. But before, do you have the physical strength to come with me? I feel awkward leaving you here.¡±


    I don¡¯t know why I asked that. He probably isn¡¯t able to get up on his own. But, he did walk over here without anyone to help him. I don¡¯t trust him though. I know that sounds horrible that I don¡¯t trust someone who came all the way here after getting beat up by his parents. But I have my every reason to. He ruined me and Camellia¡¯s friendship and now she isn¡¯t even here anymore. He lied to her throughout the entire relationship and she could¡¯ve gotten a way better boyfriend than him. I don¡¯t know what she saw in him and I never will.


    ¡°I can walk and stand up. If you don¡¯t want me to stay here, that¡¯s alright. That¡¯s what I originally expected. I didn¡¯t think you were going to be okay with me staying here. Plus, it seems like your¡­ date, is waiting for you. Don¡¯t want to keep them waiting. I¡¯ll just go.¡± he started getting up from the couch in what seemed like a heavy amount of pain. How bad did his parents hurt him? And what did he even do that made them so pissed off that they just had to take their anger out on him? This is messed up. I get that he¡¯s not the best person in this world but he doesn¡¯t deserve to get beat up by his own blood.


    ¡°Ow- uhm, I- I swear I can get up. It just hurts. Don¡¯t worry, I¡¯ll be out of your house soon. J-just don¡¯t worry. Ow¡­¡±


    Crap. I feel worse now. He doesn¡¯t deserve this. I mean, he deserves to get beat up but not by his family. Even though I see him as some horrible teenager who practically drove my best friend to her ¡®suicide¡¯, abuse isn¡¯t anywhere near okay.


    ¡°No no, just sit,¡± I started getting up from the couch so I could open the door for Devon and tell him that we were going to bring him. ¡°And it¡¯s not a date. We just need to¡­ uhm, go somewhere. You can come along, I don¡¯t mind.¡±


    I put my hand on the door-knob and twisted it then opened the door. And finally, the person I was waiting for was here after waiting for ten or twenty minutes.


    ¡°Hey sorry. I didn¡¯t think you lived that far away from me. Also, you have a small house. It  seems very¡­ comfortable.¡± He started looking around and saw Noah sitting on the couch and it seemed like he was about to get pissed off.


    He grabbed me by my arm and gripped me hard. There¡¯s got to be a mark on my arm because of that. He pulled me over but it didn¡¯t even do much because he practically screamed it. I¡¯m pretty sure my neighbors could¡¯ve heard it.


    ¡°What the hell is he doing here?!¡±