I nodded to myself and turned to the next page. There was a word written in big black letters. I traced the letters and closed my eyes. What it said was definitely not what I was. I started with an S and then ended with T and I would never be one of those. I turned the next page.
I felt more of the choking and I dropped the glass of water. It shattered on the floor and I dropped my book also. Nothing happened to the book of course but it fell onto the glass. I reached out and grabbed the table to steady myself. It was never usually like this when I didn’t eat. Usually it was just the headaches and the dizziness. I knew that this had something to do with Ali. I knew that she was upstairs and then suddenly I felt nothing at all and I couldn’t feel her at all. I gasped for air and looked at the stairs. They looked at me menacingly and I looked at the darkness at the top. I crept over to them and took a deep breath and before I knew it, the top step creaked under my foot. I looked at the faint light coming from my room. I almost swallowed my tongue.
“Ali? Are you there?” I whispered. No answer. I opened the door to my room. I don’t know what I was expecting, the grim reaper maybe, the devil, maybe, Ashton and Ali- Well, not really….
But I was definitely not expecting what really was there. I screamed.
There was Ali.
But she wasn’t sleeping, or talking to the devil. I screamed some more.
Ali was hanging limply by a rope.
Ali was hanging limply by a rope on the ceiling fan.
Her head was rolled forward sickeningly and her face was unresponsive. I shook her body and screamed nonstop.
She didn’t move. Only half a day ago, we were talking and I was laughing with her. She was dead. But she couldn’t be. Ali swung slowly, around and around. The ceiling fan groaned in result. I pulled and pulled on her body until she came loose from the noose and fell into my arms. She was unbelievably heavy and my screaming turned into deep sobs, wracking through my whole body and then I pushed her hair out of her face. Her dark hair was so long. Her eyes were closed.
I heard people coming up the stairs and it was then that I closed my eyes and held Ali close. I heard a few more screams. None as horrified as mine was. I didn’t let them take Ali. The hospital was rung and so were the police. I knew it was suicide but I didn’t want to accept it. There was no way that Ali would have done something like this. I howled as they took her body away in a body bag and I was taken into a different ambulance. I was taken to the hospital for shock they said. I was given a bit of paper that they found folded on her desk with my name on it.
Memorising the words didn’t even make sense. ‘Nothing is endless. I know that now.’
I kept Ali’s neatly folded note in my hand even when they let me leave the hospital. Even when mum came to pick me up and even when the police were in my room, and they were searching for clues to what led to her suicide, I still kept the note in my hand it was not going to leave my hand. Until a few days after I left the hospital and it disintegrated in my hands. I was lucky that I had memorised the words.
Those hurriedly written, half formed words, Ali’s handwriting was a type of writing that no one could recreate.
And so, now losing one of the last things that Ali left me, I lay in my bed, huddled under the covers and mourned.