Chapter 19: TRHS Announcement
*I had it planned. So much that I even had my cat at the vet overnight. I had asked one of Daniel’s former patrol partners to stop by in the morning. I didn’t want my family to be the ones that found me. - Evie*
Monday morning started off with an announcement from a very shaken principal over the PA system shortly after the first bell of the day. The speakers squealed in the classrooms and offices across the building as they crackled to life.
“Attention, Theodore Roosevelt students and staff, this is Principal David Smythe and I need your attention for a few minutes. It is with a deeply saddened heart that I ask for your attention this morning. Over the weekend, we lost our student leader, Amelia Haughton.”
His voice cracked and the soft buzzing sound of the PA ended as the system was disengaged. A moment later, it crackled back to life with another loud squeal.
“Miss Haughton was a senior and president of the student council. She was an active member of the National Honor Society and Key Club. She was also an editor for our newspaper, The Roosevelt Gazette.”
Priscilla shook her head as she listened to the principal list off all of Amelia’s accolades. A/B honor roll. This society and that organization. Swiping away tears, she thought of a conversation that she had the student editor at the end of last year concerning Priscilla’s desire to own a business with her best friend.
*“If you like doing it, do it. If you don’t, then quit. Doing something because someone else wants you to do doesn’t make your life any better. And the other person, really doesn’t care.”*
Now she wondered if the other girl was talking about her own parents. Did she really see herself as such a disappointment? What would she have been able to accomplish if she had had supportive parents? And not the ones that set unrealistic expectations?
Finally, Mr. Smythe, finished listing off Amelia’s resume and Priscilla looked around the shocked class of her dual credit English class as the principal finished his announcement.
“Miss Haughton, despite her many accomplishments, suffered silently with depression. If you are also suffering, please reach out for help. Speak with your parents, a teacher and as always, the counselors are always available. This week, therapists from the North Star Ranch and Department of Mental Health will be available in the library if you need them.”
Priscilla rolled her eyes. She had heard what Amelia’s parents had said. And much like her teacher in this class, Mr. Luckett, most of the teachers seemed to have the attitude that they were just here for the paycheck. Their desire and love of teaching was long gone.
With the announcement complete, a moment of silence observed, Mr. Luckett stood up from his desk and moved to the wooden lectern that he always used.
“I want you all to know that you can come to any of your teachers or counselors with any issues. Now let’s continue with Orwell’s 1984…”
And just like that, Amelia Haughton was once again dismissed and forgotten. The rest of the teachers seemed to be the same way. Isn’t that sad? Yes, she’ll be missed. Now, onto the lesson plan for the day.
At the end of the day, Priscilla met her sister, Eliza, and they walked into history class together. Evie was not hiding her emotions as she stood in front of the class.
“Good afternoon,” Evie said with a sad smile as she leaned against her desk in her typical pose. “I’ve thrown out my lesson plans for the day. Let’s talk about you and how you guys are dealing with the loss of a classmate to suicide.”
Carolyn Davis drew everyone’s attention when she asked the question that they all wondered. “Miss, are you going to give us some bullshit about how we can talk to you?”
“No, ma’am, I will never give you bullshit. But you can always come talk to me.” Reaching over, she flipped on her projector and her phone number appeared on the smart board. “Put this in your phone and text me your name.”
“You expect me to believe that you’re going to give out your phone number?” a boy at the back demanded.
“My Saints kids, you have my phone number. Is that the same number that you have for me?”
Camille was the first to find Evie’s phone number “Yeah, that’s it.”
“Anytime you need someone to talk to, call me. If I don’t answer, I will call you back as soon as I can. If it is an emergency, send me a text of a semicolon.”
Holding up her right hand, she showed the previously overlooked blue semicolon butterfly on her thumb.
“A semicolon is used in a sentence when you need to pause a little longer than you would with a comma. But it’s not a hard stop like a period.”
“Life goes on.” A cheerleader to Priscilla’s right, raised her left hand showing the small semicolon tattoo on her wrist.
“Yes, Miss Grayson, life goes on.” Evie moved to her chair, where she settled herself and her growing belly. “The week after next, I will be out. It will mark four years since I lost my husbands. My legal husband and his patrol partner responded to a domestic disturbance. Teenage boy had a bad reaction to some drugs and assaulted his mom and sister thinking that they were monsters.”
The entire class listened with rapt attention as they learned how their teacher had become a widow. Lost her baby. And then lost herself. How she had planned her own death. Not even the Saints kids knew this part of her story.
“I spent three months with my brother in Maine. Before I went home, he took me to the tattoo shop.” The phone number was replaced with a picture of Law’s memorial rose tattoo.
“My brother lost his wife when their boys were twelve. He knew where I was. Knew the struggle I was in. And I can tell you, our stories may not be the same, but I know that darkness.”
“It sucks.” Miss Davis said softly. “Everyone tells you to ask for help. But when you do, adults think you don’t have anything to be depressed about.”
“You have your whole life ahead of you.” A boy added.
“I will never tell you that. They are your feelings, and you are entitled to them. My dad reminds me that it’s okay to not be okay. But it’s not okay to give up. Life sucks from time to time. We’re talking sucks worse than a dollar blow job.”
Her class laughed. “But the sun comes out again. Little miracles happen. Dreams change and come true. You change. Life changes. You have to go through the darkness to see a sunrise.”
The goth girl quoted; “Do not go gentle into the dark night. Rage, rage against the dying of the light.”
“Love me some Dylan Thomas.” Evie’s alarm dinged. “I have agreed to stay after today if anyone wants to stay also. If you need to talk, or just don’t want to be alone, you’re more than welcome to stay.”
After a hesitant knock, Evie opened the door to a distraught freshman.
“I… I didn’t know where else to go.” Benjamin Haughton admitted.
“Right here is a perfect place to be.” She stepped back and let him enter.
Eliza and another freshman cheerleader rushed to him as sobs racked his body. Evie guided them to her gray couch. The school day ended, and no one left, but others joined them. Everyone shifted, allowing more room. Priscilla moved to sit on Camille’s desk, and she laid her blonde head in her friend’s lap. Automatically, Priscilla began playing with the blonde locks.
Quietly, almost fearfully, Benjamin asked, “Did I cause this?”
“No,” he clasped Evie’s offered hands. “Your sister was struggling, and she did not find the help that she needed.”
With a heart wrenching sob, he told his teacher, “She asked for help. Mom and dad never listened. Just told her… told her to get over herself.”
After several minutes of the cheerleaders hugging him, he spoke again softly. “They had a fight over the weekend, and they kept saying she should be more like me. I always… always wanted to be like her.”
“Be yourself. Only ever be yourself.” Evie advised.
“Be yourself; everyone else is taken.” The goth girl handed him a small pack of black tissues. “Oscar Wilde said that about a hundred years ago, his wisdom remains.”
“I thought you were more of a Poe girl.” He accepted the tissues.
Shrugging, she lifted her sleeve, and Priscilla knew what she was showing him. Keely Woodson was a North Star patient for cutting. Her forearms and wrists were covered with small scars. And a tattoo with a Poe quote.
*Even in the grave, all is not lost.*