She thought back to a month before. It was the day when Jamie Newberg had lit Mr. Gregory on fire. Jamie had always had a little something wrong with her, and it really didn't come as a surprise that she would do something like that, it just came as a surprise when Mr. Gregory died from it.

It was a normal science class, Mr. Gregory always tried to do fun experiments with his students, and that day's one had to do with alcohol burners. Everyone in the class had partnered up except Jamie, of course, and were well on their way into the experiments when she started rocking back and forth and muttering to herself. Mr. Gregory was a great teacher, no doubt about it, he had this way with students that made him seem like just one of the normal guys in class, that you could joke around with and also have a serious discussion with, and he obviously prided himself on his attentions to students so he went over to see what was wrong with Jamie. In the span of about five seconds she had screamed and thrown the flaming alcohol burner at his face. It cracked on his hard plastic goggles and spilled alcohol all down his face and shirt. He probably would have survived, except for the fact that the goggles melted onto his face and over his nose and mouth, and none of the students really remembered what to do in a situation like this, and pandemonium ensued. A couple of the kids ran for the fire blanket, which only weighted him down even more and pressed the melting hot goggles farther into his face.

Around the time of Andrew's death, Mr. Gregory's widow was in a heated legal battle with the goggle manufacturers for their obviously defective products, but it was sad knowing that it would never bring her husband back. Jamie was facing criminal charges, and was pleading not guilty by reason of insanity.

The death of a beloved teacher affected the students greatly, and when Judith got home the first thing she did was call Andrew. Before she could even say hello she burst into tears.

"Hi, Judith." She had always hated her name. It wasn't a teenage name, it sounded like the name of some desperate housewife or middle-aged librarian. The sound of him saying her name caused her to sob once even harder, but she pressed on.

"Andrew, I can't believe it! Hes GONE. Forever." Judith paused to wipe her nose.

"Hey, calm down. Listen, he's in a better place now. Don't you believe in heaven?" She didnt but she couldnt bring herself to openly admit it, especially in front of someone with such unwavering faith. Still, she felt she had to say something.

"I wish I had your conviction." She said simply.

"It's not that hard, all you need is to believe."

"I don't want to get into a theological debate with you, Andrew!"

"Doesnt it depress you to not believe in something bigger than yourself? This cant be just it, I know it cant."

"How can you know? Nobody can really learn until it's his or her time. I'm not saying it's not possible, I'm just not entirely sure, thats all."

"Jude, you don't get it. But that's okay with me. Just try to cheer up a little." Then he started giggling and did the only thing that raised her spirits a little. "Hey Jude, don't make it bad, take a sad song, and make it better" She had always hated that song, until he started to sing it. She hung up, a little disappointed that the comforting conversation she had hoped for turned into a debate about the existence of God.

She had met Andrew only a few months ago, but it seemed like they had known each other forever. Since their last names were close in the alphabet, they were seated next to each other in almost every class. That, and the fact that he moved in a couple streets down from her made them almost instant friends. She hated to admit this to herself, but he was the first guy she was really close to, and her poor social skills were most likely to blame. There was nothing wrong with her looks, in fact, that seemed to draw people to her, but she just ended hurting them when they tried to get close. Maybe the fact that Andrew never asked for anything but her friendship made him one of the only ones she cared about. She suspected then that she may have felt something towards him, but didnt want to ruin what they had.

In fact, she was so scared of ruining their unique friendship that even that tiny little dispute about God had her lying face up on her bed for an hour or so that night, thinking about all that was said. If there was an afterlife, she supposed she shouldnt be sad. Unless there was judgment, like many people believed. Judith tried her hardest, but still couldnt grasp the idea of an all-knowing yet all-loving being, who still felt the need to be worshipped and punished those who didnt. She squeezed her eyes tightly, wondering where Mr. Gregory was, and whether he was all right. What she didnt know was that at that same moment, Andrew was doing the same.

A week after that, she got an unexpected call.

"Jude, it's me. Can I come over to your house for awhile?"

"Yeah, Andrew. Sure." Judith couldnt say why, but something in his tone of voice made her a little confused. He had never just invited himself over before. "Any particular reason?"

"No, not really." He laughed. "I love you, thats why."

"Haha. Fine, come on over."

When he arrived, it had been pounding rain for a few hours before, and Judith jumped back in surprise to see him standing at the door, water streaming down his face and into his eyes. His black tee shirt was plastered to him, and his shorts were dripping water all over her entryway. He also seemed out of breath.

"Whoa. Did you run here in the rain or something?"

"Yeah..." He gave her a look as though this were a perfectly normal thing to do and that she was being the strange one for thinking it was out of the ordinary.

"And you didn't bring a jacket or anything?" She asked, astounded.

"I like the rain." He said, "Lets go down to the basement."

By this time, Andrews behavior had Judith really puzzled. They sat down on her basement couch and Jude cautiously asked if he would like a dry shirt, which, to her surprise, he accepted. She put in some stupid movie for him to watch and then went upstairs to search through her familys closets for something for him to wear. Finding an oversized tee shirt, she went downstairs to find him still sitting on the couch, but the movie was turned off.

"I brought this down for you. It was from some fundraiser a couple years ago, I don't think anyone's ever worn it. You can even keep it if you want to."

She sat in an awkward silence for a couple of minutes until he was done changing. She really wished the movie was still on. He was acting different tonight; she had no idea what to say.

"You turned off the"

"Yeah, I hate that movie." He said, still staring straight ahead.

She sat for a couple more seconds. This was really getting weird and she was considering getting up to go grab another DVD when she had a better idea.

"Why did you really come tonight?"

"Does it matter? Im here arent I?"

Judith couldn't take it anymore. She got up abruptly and said "Well, I'm going to grab another movie, if you dont mind."

"Jude, wait."

He grabbed her hand and pulled her back down to the couch. Without saying another word he pulled her in closely until she could feel his lips pressing against hers. With a jolt of surprise, she opened her mouth and let him slip his tongue in, pulling her closer all the while. She quickly jerked out of the kiss and they sat there and stared at each other for a minute or two until he stood up and uncomfortably muttered goodbye and left.

Later that night, Judith was in her room, banging her head on her mirror again...and again...and again. She felt like the pressure was building inside her. Finally she made an evil face at herself in the mirror and started shouting.

"Why? Why Jude? Why did you let him do that? Arrrrgh! You WHORE!" She took a swipe at the mirror image of herself, but accomplished nothing but a hurt hand. She stomped around her room for a couple minutes and finally plopped down on her bed, staring at the ceiling. Kissing meant dating, and breaking up, and saying nasty things behind the other person"s back after you get sick of walking around everywhere holding hands. It made her want to puke. It meant jealousy and hurt. Hurtshe would have to do it. She couldnt let him get any closer. Right as she was thinking this, the phone beside her bed rang. With a sigh, she picked it up.

"Jude?"

"Andrew, no. Justno. Leave me alone." She hang up, tears in her eyes. Why was she doing this to herself? Why was she doing this to him? Because she had liked it? It was true, and that fact alone made her feel like punching the mirror again. She was simply not allowed to have feelings!

A couple days later, Andrew died.

She sat there, reading the letter over and over again on the screen. She printed it out, even though she felt like in the last two weeks since his death she had just about memorized it. She pulled on her shoes, and called to her mother that she had to go for a walk.

Her sandals seemed to pound the pavement, the wind blew her hair forward into her face as she started to walk. She didn't even know where she was going, she just needed to get anywhere from here. She pulled off the sidewalk onto a little trail going around the edge of a pond. The trees here blocked the wind and the serene sound of crickets and frogs soothed her. She kept walking at full pace until she reached a little bench by the water. She sat in silence until the tears had subsided, and delicately pulled the note out from her back pocket. Nighttime had long since fallen, and the streetlamps all turned on simultaneously. She read it over and over again, trying to detect some hidden meaning within its text. This didn't seem to help, the more she went over it, the more confused she got. Andrew didnt seem to even remember anything ever happening between them.

Dear friends

You're getting this note and I'm sad to say it's too late to do anything about it. I'm already gone.  Before trying to blame yourselves for this or trying to put the blame on someone else, I just want the truth out. Dad, you did this to me and now I don't care who knows it because after what you've done to me I hope this hurts you like hell. I hope you can look in the mirror every morning and see the sole cause of your son's suicide, you fucking bastard. Mom, you've been everything to me and I'm sorry it turned out like this. You never did anything to stop him, and look where we are now. Everyone else who is reading this letter: I love you all and I only hope that you can join me wherever we meet in the next world. It's okay, I'm happier now, and finally I can stop hurting.

Love,

Andrew

PS Jude, remember talking about whether theres a heaven or not? I guess now I can finally find that out for myself. Haha.

Why was the note like that? Didn't he remember anything that had happened between them, and couldnt he just forgive Judith for slamming down that phone? Why leave, just leave? She needed some reassurance that he really was happier, this note alone didnt mean anything to her. She hung her head down, and pressed her hands to her eyes until she saw little stars in front of her. Why cant she say one last thing to him? Didn't she deserve a chance to say what she had to say? There were no pre-suicide notes. There was never a chance for everyone else to say one last thing. That was the express right of the person killing themselves, and she thought it terribly unfair.

Jude stood up from the bench, and tilted her head to the sky. She half expected to hear him singing through the trees, was that "Hey Jude, don't make it bad" she heard whistling along with the wind? She strained her ears hard, but everything just returned to the normal sounds of the forest. She saw a toad half-heartedly hop across the path. She looked down at it and thought a bit about reincarnation. Now that, she could believe. Was he one of the birds she heard? Or maybe he was just a newborn mouse, hiding in a bush. She scanned around her, until her eyes felt dizzy. Once again, she had the sinking feeling that there was nothing after death.

A rage building inside of her, she screamed to the sky, the one thing the could think of to make her feel better. A thousand questions bubbled up inside of her, but only one escaped.

"HA HA?" She yelled, feeling as though he lungs would burst from the pressure she was using to make herself be heard, up to heaven, she would wake God up if she had to. "WHO THE FUCK ENDS A SUICIDE NOTE WITH HA HA?"