Miss Me Not - Chapter 1

“Thanks so much for letting us stay again,” my dad patted his brother and sister in law on the shoulders, smiling sympathetically, “It’s such a terrible tragedy. Charlemagne was troubled, but this… I don’t think anybody could have expected him to do something like it.”

Aunt Becca nodded sadly, then turned to me, “Hey, Connie, you don’t mind staying in Charlie’s old room, do you? We don’t have another guest room, and I think you’d prefer sleeping in a bed than the couch.” I swallowed. Sleeping in a dead kid’s room. The room where said dead kid died. It felt bad, disrespectful, even, especially after having just attended his funeral. But it was late, Aunt Becca and Uncle Arnie had already agreed to let us stay the night, and I was exhausted. Nodding, I slung my duffel bag over my shoulder, trudging down the hallway to the room. I had seen the door labelled with Charlie’s name on previous visits, but I had never been inside. I wondered what he would have thought about the circumstances leading up to my first time seeing the interior of his bedroom. He always seemed to guard his opinions like a dragon would its treasure hoard.

Charlie’s sister Cameron breezed past me and into her own room. At fourteen years old, she was about a head shorter than me, basically a carbon copy of her mother. Auburn curls and crocodile green eyes with a splash of freckles across the bridge of her nose. Charlie had those same green eyes. Cam’s had lost their usual cheer after her brother’s death two days ago, and started looking a lot like his. Dull and misty, grey if you looked at them from the right angle. A spike of fear ploughed through my chest. What if Cam hurt herself too, or worse? Awkwardly, I cleared my throat, “Er… Cam.”

“Yeah.” The apathy in her voice sent in another wave of paranoia. She even sounded like Charlie now. Half in her room, Cameron looked up at me, awaiting a response. Shuffling my feet, I stared at the floorboards, “Are you… okay?”

“I’m fine.” The door shut, and my cousin disappeared behind it, leaving me alone in the hallway while the adults spoke in the living room. More talk about teenagers this, teenagers that. Those dramatic teenagers. Those ignorant teenagers. Those selfish teenagers. As if it was all somehow Charlie’s fault.

Angry, I pushed the door beside me open and peeked in. It was messy, but in the lived-in kind of way. The bed was sloppily made, a single annotated sheet of paper tossed onto it. Nudging the door shut with my foot, I switched the lights on, and brightness flooded the room. The walls were painted sky blue, the curtains lavender. Charlie’s bedding was in various pale yellows, his desk and chair a light grey. A guitar was placed in one corner, a backpack in another. On the desk was a laptop, a digital clock, a desk lamp, a notebook, and various writing utensils. A pair of dark grey wireless headphones sat on the desk chair. They looked well-used. I walked over to the bed, dropping my bag next to it and sitting down. Curious, I picked up the piece of paper placed on the blanket for examination. As my eyes drifted down to the page and along the words, my heart sank. It was a note. Charlie’s suicide note.

Mum, dad, Cam-

I’m truly sorry for what I’m putting you through. Mum and dad, I greatly appreciate your efforts you put into providing for me. I go with the consolation that at least all the resources that would have gone into me will now be going towards raising my sister. Think of it as a parting gift, if it will help cushion the sorrow, even though the gift is not really mine to give. Cam. I’m so sorry for this. I’m so sorry for all the times we argued, I really do wish we could have gotten along better. But hey, at least you’re an only child now, right? You can have my iPad, it’s about time we replaced your one with the cracked screen, anyway.

Mum, dad, as for my other belongings, distribute them among my cousins and Cam as you wish. Just one thing, I’d like for Connor to have my laptop. I remember you told us that Aunt Dorothy said his one broke two days ago. Since school’s starting up again soon, he’ll need it. Please donate my clothes to charity, there are kids out there who need it more than I do. Who deserve it more than I do.

Lastly, I love you all, and tell the rest of the family I love them too. I understand the gravity of my actions, and I deeply regret the consequences of them, but I feel there is no alternative. The problem has always been me, and the time has come for me to fix it.

Miss me not,

Xx. Charlemagne A. Campbell

Swallowing a lump in my throat, I placed the note on the desk beside me, eyes flicking over to the laptop. In his last moments, Charlie had thought of me. His parents, his sister, and me. Even though we never interacted, even though I was unremarkable and didn’t stand out in the family, he remembered something so specific about me while he was overcome with pain and sorrow. Even though it was only a laptop, it felt like too good a gift to accept. I didn’t deserve it. Not when I stood to the side while Charlie was stepped all over by our relatives like a coward. When I could just maybe have saved him by being his friend. I felt selfish. Shakily, I changed into pajamas, gave the note one last read, and cried myself to sleep in the room of the boy I could have saved.