This was it. My first day back at school. And I was truly dreading it. It was obvious that everyone knew about Kelli by now, I’d received quite a few texts from people I no longer knew saying that they were sorry. But nothing helped. Mrs Patrick, bitch head teacher had probably made an overstated announcement in assembly when she found out, and told everybody to bow their heads and pray for Kelli and her family and friends. And now I had to face it all. The journey to school was so empty. I was shaking for the whole hour. Missing Kelli, every little thing I saw reminded me of her. I had rarely travelled alone in the past 4 years at our school. I sat on the train. In a corner, I turned up my music to full volume in my ears, each word reminding me of Kelli to. The journey dragged on and on. I remembered awkward journeys where we had sat in complete silence because Kelli was obviously upset and there was nothing I could do, if I asked her what was wrong she would shrug and say nothing. If only those lies and cover-ups were true. We would just sit there, both of us in pain, every possibility running through my head about why she was upset, what had she done? I got to school and immediately I felt every gawping eye upon me, whispers as I walked past, people avoiding me, avoiding eye contact. I sat at the very back of registration, the form tutor whispered my name when she reached me in the register, I responded and shrieked almost sympathetic gasps came from the members of the class who obviously hadn’t noticed me. None of them really knew Kelli, not the real Kelli anyway; I suspected that most of them didn’t even notice she had gone. The lessons drew on, people staring, asking questions, but I couldn’t speak, it was as if my voice, my identity, my life had died along with Kelli. I just wanted it all to end. At lunch time Ms Fallow, deputy head came to find me, along with the school nurse. I knew they were going to come and stick there nose in, make me tell them ‘how I was feeling’; ask me why they thought Kelli would have killed herself. I knew exactly why. But I wouldn’t tell them, I wouldn’t tell anyone. The came and marched me to Fallows office where we sat on hard chairs. They leaned in towards me, their eyes wide open, as if they were trying to see into my head. I tried my very hardest not to cry in front of them, whatever they said, they treated Kelli like a thing, an object, now non-existent, like a specimen in a laboratory. When I got home I felt like a limp, pathetic nobody who everybody knew about but didn’t know. I collapsed in my bed and cried. Cried for Kelli, cried to Kelli, hoped that she would see how much she was hurting me. I could never see an end to the pain. Was this what I would have to live with…for the rest of my life?