The Room

Oddly Enough, it was actually a rather bright day; sunny with a few clouds. It had been an excellent day, at the time. A friend and I had planned on hanging out that day. It was our typical plan for the summer weekends; sitting around talking, and swimming in the pool in her back yard.

Once I arrived she greeted me at the door and invited me inside. We sat for about an hour or two and talked about how our weeks had been. We went swimming shortly after our long conversation. It wasn’t like a pool party or anything, we really just moved our conversation to the pool. It was relaxing.

Despite the overwhelming fun we had talking to each other, it was time for pizza and it was my turn to buy. Normally we go together to get the pizza. But she didn’t want to join me on the trip this time, at the time I didn’t know the reason why. I do now. On the way back from the pizza place it began to rain, hot heavily, more of a drizzle than anything else. Pulling into her driveway, the rain started to come down much harder than it had been. I didn’t mind, I had always loved the rain.

Getting out of my car, I could hear her music blaring from her bedroom window on the second floor of the house. The door to the house was unlock, as expected. The music was much louder inside the house than outside, which was fine. Her parents weren’t home anyway, gone on vacation, I think. Leaving the pizza on the kitchen table, I headed toward her room. The music growing in volume and power as I did.

Finally reaching her bedroom door, I try to open the door. It wouldn’t budge. Something on the other side was blocking the door. Ramming the door as hard as I could with my shoulder, I end up pushing whatever was on the other side with the door as it opens. Turns out there was a dresser in front of the door.

Finally making enough room for me to shimmy into the room, I saw the one thing that I will never be able to forget for the rest of my existence.

She kicked the chair out from under herself. She dropped and stopped about a foot from the carpet. With a sickening grunt and the snapping sound of tendons braking, the makeshift rope, made from a sheet, tightened around her neck.

Still dangling from the homemade noose, my body was no longer my own. It started to move on its own, going underneath her and trying to lift her to let her breath, to save her life. However, I was not strong enough. All my effort was for not. She was dead the moment she kicked the chair from beneath her.

The one thing that will never be removed from my head is this memory. Why I didn’t see what was causing her so much pain and that I never noticed her pain, I will never know. I blame myself to this day for her pain. Maybe there was something I could have done to change what had happened.

I can’t continue to write, I must stop now. I can’t bear to recall this any longer. But before I go, I want you, whomever is reading this, to know her name. Liz, and she haunts me still.

— K. E. Oskold

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