I couldn't believe it. What had happened…It was a nightmare. How could she do this to me? To us? To everyone? I didn't understand it. Not one bit. I sat there in silence while the girls in the locker room tried to get the story straight. I heard it once and I never wanted to hear it again. At first I was confused and had no idea what the fuss was about. Nobody did. Not a soul. All except…her. What was she thinking?
My nails dug as deep as they could into the bench I sat on in the locker room. I couldn't move. I was in shock. The others tried to calm me. Get me to talk, to say something…anything…anything at all, but I couldn't.
"Nikki, Nikki come on! Say something, please!" I heard one girl say.
"Nikki, we're so sorry this happened!!"
"Someone get a teacher! She must be in shock!!"
Yeah I was in shock, and I wasn't moving. Someone picked me up, and before I knew it I was out of Backson High's gym locker room and into a hospital bed. I could not eat, nor speak or look other than directly in front of me. I couldn't even get up to go to the bathroom I was so out of it. I had my mind…I just couldn't remember how to use it again. I could see, but I was so deep in grief and thought that I was blind to what was going on. Blind enough to where it could kill me. It was killing me. Just like it did her. My beloved sister, Amelia, had committed suicide during school hours, in front of her entire class. I did not know how and I did not know why. She had it great in school. She suffered from some depression problems, but that was really it. She was a senior and only had 2 weeks of school left, and so did I. It was going to be my last days as a lower-class freshman, too.
Finally, one day I started to think outside my head. I started to move. My mom and dad were so happy to see me move. I had been wasting away to nothing, living off of tubes to feed me for I wouldn't eat and my bed had to be changed as well for I wouldn't go to the bathroom. Well, more like I couldn't.
Until one day in the hospital, everyone was out of my room. I had no neighbors and my parents had to go to work as much as they hated it. They still had to make money some how, and sitting around waiting for me to recover wasn't an option. I ripped the tubes from me and gently pulled out the feeding tube. I was still so shaky, so much in emotional pain that I couldn't feel any physical pain at all that this may have caused. I got out of my bed very carefully, hanging on the edge of my bed for dear life so the nurses wouldn't come in for if I had fallen. I made it to the door in what seemed like an eternity, and thank God nobody came in. I locked the door and went back to my bed. I had only a few hours to plot and I couldn't waste them. I had to think and think hard. It was hard for how long I had been stoned and dead-minded.
The only real person who understood me, knew my purpose in life, helped me with all my problems even when dealing with hers, was Amelia. Amelia Roschure and I, Nichole Roschure, was not about to live a wasted life. Amelia was I all had to live for and I was going to see her again, and soon. I knew how I was going to see her again; I had to die. Meet her in heaven. The biggest problem was how to get there quietly; and in under 95 minutes.