A Moment Too Late

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Dylan was sitting on the floor of his dorm room with his back propped up against the bed. He already reeked of beer, but took another long draught before studying the new picture in his hand. In this one a salty breeze pulled at Celia’s curls and made her light brown hair stick out like crazy. Her eyes were were squinted shut and her mouth hung wide open as she laughed. Dylan was sitting beside her; he had one hand covering his face in a poor attempt to keep from spewing water. What were we laughing about? Try as he might, Dylan couldn’t remember the joke.

He kept flipping through the photos Celia’s roommate had allowed him to take from the dorm they shared. He still couldn’t believe that such a light had vanished from the face of the earth. Celia, his best friend, his constant companion for the past fourteen years, was gone. All their jokes, the secret language they had made up in seventh grade, Celia’s witty impressions of historical figures… all of it was just gone. It hadn’t even been a full day since they found her, slumped over and alone on a secluded courtyard bench, with a syringe stuck in her arm.

He clutched the photos to his chest and sighed. He had been so frustrated to find that even Celia’s friends believed she had died of a drug overdose. They didn’t deserve that, he thought, recalling his angry outburst. Sure, Celia had been acting strangely these past few months, but drugs weren’t the problem. Celia had been too dedicated to her studies and to helping fellow peers prepare for their own exams. There was no way she would have thrown it all away for a score. No, all of Celia’s problems had started shortly after she began to date Mr. Jamie Cleary.

A pit of anger burned inside Dylan at the thought of Jamie. Jamie had been such a flirt, and his confident swagger was but one small indicator of his egotistical nature. As heart wrenching as it was to see Celia fall for such a guy, Dylan had been prepared to smile, to say that was happy for her, and understood that they wouldn’t be spending quite so much time together.

What he had not expected was to be totally cut off Celia. She stopped responding to any of his texts, and was always the last one to arrive and the first one to leave to the psychology class they shared. Dylan was left sick with worry. He’d stay up late into the night for fear of missing a text, and then walk into class dizzy and disoriented. Frustration over coming up with a plan to reach out to her without pushing her farther away engulfed him. To make things worse, two days ago Celia’s carefully placed scarf had shifted, revealing dark bruises around her neck. Abandoning all caution, Dylan had bolted to the door at the end of class and pleaded with her to explain what had happened. Her eyes, normally large and hungry for knowledge, had flinched away from him. She had tightened her grip on her books and then mumbled something about having to go. But in his desperation, Dylan caught her elbow as she turned away.

“Please,” he had begged. “Let me in. I love you too much to stand by and see this happen to you.”

Celia’s face had reddened and her voice had cracked as she fought back tears. “I love you too.” she whispered. “You’re the best friend I’ve ever had. I just, I’ve gotta...” A sob tore at a throat. “Just let me sort things out.” He then tried to pull her into an embrace, but she tore herself away.

Dylan took another swig of the beer, hoping to drown out that last memory he had of her. He should have ran after her, he should have told her much sooner that he had always counted her as more than just a friend, or have made more clear when he had the chance…

But it was too late. He had let Jamie get close to her. He had let him kill her. The best hope he had was that there was some sort of clue in Celia’s text messages.

“Arrrgh!” He screamed in frustration. The bottle in his hand smashed against the post of his bed and broke into jagged shards. The glass bit into flesh, causing Dylan to jump up as he swore.

“You’re gonna pay for that.” he threatened, talking to an imaginary Jamie. Instead of bandaging his damaged hand, Dylan stumbled out of his room, to the stairwell, and began to climb the two flights of stairs that led to Jamie’s floor. He won’t be laughing when I’m through with him. Blood ran down his hand and left a crimson stain along the rail that he clung to. If no one was going to listen to him, then Dylan would take justice into his own hands. He turned down the hall until he found Jamie’s door.

“I know you did it!” Dylan roared as he pounded on the door. “I know it was you!” Dylan tripped as the door swung open and landed in a heap at Jamie’s feet. Had an alarmed look on his face. He quickly pulled Dylan’s form into his room and shut the door behind him.

“Are you alright? What’cha do with your hand.” he asked.

“You killed her.” Dylan muttered. He could barely see straight anymore. “I know you did.”

Jamie sighed. “Is this about Celia? I miss her too.” he said quietly. “I had no idea that she was using.”

“Liar!” Dylan roared. He struggled to his feet, and attempted to take a swing at Jamie. However, all Jamie had to do was grip Dylan’s forearms to steady him.

“I loved Celia.” Jamie reasserted. “She was my everything. I can’t believe you would even suggest I would hurt her!”

“Bullshit!” A bitter chuckle escaped from Dylan. “I can prove it.”

“Oh?” Jamie asked. “Really- where is this proof? How could I?”

“I dunno!” Dylan’s words began to slur together. “I dunno how’ya could’ve hurt her. She… She was perfect! But I’ll get you!’s texts get backed up to her email. One look… just need one look!” he slurred. Dylan smirked at Jamie, proud of his wit.

“That’s really too bad.” Jamie whispered. He started to steer Dylan away from the door. “Everyone could tell that you loved her. It’s too bad that grief got the best of you.” A smile began to creep into his face.

“Huh?” Dylan frowned, trying to figure out what Jamie meant.

“I wish you had just opened up and gotten some help. Someone could have saved you.” A wicked gleam flashed in Jamie’s eyed. With one swift motion, he picked Dylan up and swung him around. He heard the glass break as Dylan flew out the window, and then a thud as his body hit the ground.

It was good to hear about the emails. He’ll need to delete them off of Celia’s phone. Jamie spent a few seconds rehearsing what he would say, then pulled out his own phone to call 911. Poor Dylan had gotten drunk and then killed himself. Jamie had tried to stop him, but there was nothing he could do.