"Class, listen up." Mr. Mallark's voice sounded distant as he spoke.

I turned to face him, and saw his expression. It was strange, he looked like someone was torturing him. His eyes were grave, his face pulled down by some strong emotion. In his hand was a paper, and I swore I saw it shaking slightly in his grip. I frowned.

What was going on?

"A student here died last night. A junior." His voice began trembling. "Bethany Flemming was found dead in her room, a bottle of perscription anti-depressant pills on the floor. The police are ruling it as a..." He paused, choking on the word. "Suicide."

I felt like ice water had been shot through my veins. I was certain that my heart had stopped beating as I glanced over at the desk next to me. Bethany's. I wasn't able to listen to Mr. Mallark's voice anymore. Everything I heard sounded like it was coming from a tunnel. I felt pressure on my chest, like I was underwater.

How could this have happened? Bethany couldn't be dead, she just couldn't.

"The faculty wants it noted that counselors are available for the entire day, if you need to talk."

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