I saw yellow tape and smelled more smoke, only this time it smelled like hair smoke. Burning hair was one of the most iniquitous things to have ever been considered and brought up in the history of it all.
The announcements came on that everybody should report to his or her lockers, grab their possessions and be escorted home after the hour.
I saw many cops huddled around an area in front of my locker. Did they think I had started the earlier trash fire?
I ran to the nearest cop and demanded to know what was happening. He took one look at me, the locker, then me again and told me to stay put where I stood.
The announcements came back on and said that anybody with his or her locker numbers 620-680 should immediately report to their classrooms if they have their belongings or not.
I was behind two rows of cops in their blue uniforms with their hands resting on top of their gun holsters. I knitted my eyebrows and formed a frown as I waited impatiently for the cop to tell me why he had wanted me to wait and not another civilian of the locker area.
All the people had cleared back into the classrooms with their backpacks and coats and continued with their learning for the moment while I was stuck out here in the hall with a bunch of buzzing cops taking pictures of my locker. They were taking pictures of the floor too, but why were they doing this?
The cop who had told me to stay ushered me to the front where I looked at the ground.
Immediately he firmly placed his hands on my shoulders and dragged me closer to him ad away from the locker. I was already weak from standing outside for so long but still I bawled as tears began to trail down my face.
A little bit of me died that day and that little bit of me is still gone.
“Miss, we have the cops scouring the area as we speak. Calm down, everything will be alright,” the cop placed one of his arms around me and held me back from running forward and probably smashing my head against the row of lockers. I just screamed louder. It echoed louder than any thunder or any explosion could make.
How could anything be all right? How could it ever be right again?
There lay Donovan.
His beautiful chocolate hair scorched off and his scalp bleeding. A pool of blood had surrounded my locker as well as the lockers that the announcements had warned to stay away from.
“Donovan… Donovan… oh, Donovan I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” I fell to my knees and sobbed.
What was I sorry for? Was it because I couldn’t have stopped it from happening?
I could feel the blood soak into my pant legs but I didn’t dare brush it off. I didn’t want to remember the bad things yet I couldn’t wipe them away if they all were just blood. And I didn’t want the bad memories spread or held high like a triumph. I sunk deeper into my sobbing.
“Who did this? Lord, why him? Why?” I shrieked over and over again. The cops, by this time, had their ands over their ears and the counselors were standing behind me, holding me, cooing to me that when they find the arsonist they will put them away for a long time.
I was on my last link of sanity but I knew I wanted to kill them. I knew that I would kill them with every fiber of my being and rage felt during these instants. Whoever they were, jail and mush, being buried in a coffin alive was still to good for them.
They killed Donovan and got away with it; they burnt his head of for Christ’s sake! What kind of sick freak would do this? I swore I would catch them and make them pay for their actions. I will give no mercy, no time to repent for it was my time to avenge!
Donovan was nothing but a sweet boy with an optimistic view towards life, and although I was the exact opposite, I fell in love with him for the charm he cast upon me and when he asked me out all he did was make me feel lighter than heaven. He would never have hurt a mosquito.
He didn’t deserve this.
He was so young, he wanted to move to Japan with me, his beautiful bride, and become a game designer and play games all day long while we spent our evenings at fancy restaurants dancing against the moon.
Now there was no way this would happen. My wishes, our dreams, died right at that moment. Every heartbeat took an eternity to get over as I gazed with fond eyes on the only boy who had ever cared about my imaginings and me. I felt all the losses for all the people who knew him. I felt my stomach slowly bubble as I cried more tears of the regret.
Did he have anything to say to me? To Alec? To his mom?
I stood there as the counselors went to their offices to call Donovan’s parents and I was left alone with the cop. An ambulance crew came up and hoisted Donovan’s body onto a wheeled bed covered his body and carried him off.
“Wait!” I called. The two men pushing the bed stopped and looked at me. I was so shy at that point that all I could do was crawl on my knees and pull my self up against a wall and ask them if I could see his face one more time. They looked at the cop for approval and then took the blanket off Donovan’s face.
I tried to smile as I looked at him. I wanted to talk to him.
“H-hey, Donovan, love? Was there anything you wanted to tell me?” I asked as I stroked his petrified white cheek. It was unbearable to look at him but I was so curious and inhumanly desperate that I would even try to speak to a corpse.
I waited for a second and I could feel the stares. They thought I was crazy.
I kissed Donovan’s ice-cold face before they put the blanket back on and wheeled him away from me. They took him away, as well as my heart.
This was one of the lingering horrors that would haunt me for the rest of my life. Another was the fact they cleaned up the blood before everybody was rushed home but to me, it didn’t matter if they put in new floor tiles, the blood was still there. The third lingering horror happened as I opened my locker and a note dropped to my feet.