CHAPTER 4
Suicide. That's what they said it was. This morning, two hours before I woke up, one of the building residents had gone to pay Romeo a visit. He noticed how dark the room was, how Romeo’s chair wasn't where it always was and how it was in the center of the room instead. Dangling above it was Romeo's weightless body. Already colourless, already cold. Report said he might have died the night before and not that morning, probably around the same time he left my room.
It wasn't even a day later and the news was all over school — on the tip of everyone's tongue, on blogs, on Twitter. If anything, it only fueled the drama between the flowersuns and LLC. The flowersuns claimed LLC pushed Romeo into suicide with their homophobic ways. The might have no clues at the time, but they have a source and are certain LLC Fraternity were being homophobic towards one of their 'fruity’ frat member. When I read the news the next afternoon, I thought the flowersuns didn't care about any of that and maybe I still do. The resident, who sat on my bed, next to me asked why I thought so and I told her,
“If they really wanted to help him. It won't be that hard getting any evidence.”
And I thought of the afternoon when Veronica dropped me off and I was greeted with a blow on my stomach and injuries from Diego and Carlos punching the hell out of me, saying and calling me whatever they could at that moment. I thought of how I laid there and no one tried to help, but they stood there with their phones, with the video camera on. No, if those women really wanted to help Romeo at that time, they would have. There was nothing stopping them.
“I really do feel bad for him,”
the resident uttered, and I turned to look at her, noticed how moist her eyes were,
“But I understand him. Really well.”
I didn't like that. That she understood him. It made me remember the night she stumbled to my dorm, with her hands filled with blood. Made me think that that night would have been the last of her too.
“You are the last one he spoke too, right?”
I nodded,
“He just came to say hello.”
For some reason I didn't want to mention the antidepressants,
“And I’ve spoken to the police, in case you're wondering.”
“They probably won't do much anyways. It will just be ruled as suicide in a matter of days.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
She answered,
“He didn't leave a note.”
“I didn't expect him to.”
I stood up and told her I wanted to go for a walk. I was already sick of it, everything — everything about Romeo. It was crazy how no one took it as such a huge deal, crazy how few hours ago Romeo was in my room, talking, laughing. Did he know he will never get to do any of that when he sat there on my bed?
“Where are you off to?”
the resident asked, interrupting my thoughts,
“No where actually. I’ll just take a walk alone and be back.”
“What about your shift?”
I told her I didn't have any but Veronica did.
“Alright. Are you sure you'll be fine alone?”
I nodded and left before she asked anymore questions — before I gave up on hiding and broke down in front of her.
I met Diego on my way out, I wondered where Carlos was since the both of them were always together and inseparable. He stared, glared at me as I approached the door. I knew the best thing was not to look back and just ignore him but I watched him as he watched. I hoped he read me. I hoped he understood. I hoped he knew he killed Romeo.
Diego didn't follow me out, that I was grateful for. My boldness could only take me so far.
I walked to nowhere in particular. I walked without a destination. All I knew was everything suffocated me and the resident couldn't stop talking about Romeo and I wanted to forget him. Forget that I was the last person he spoke to.
My phone began to ring in my trouser pockets. My first thought was to ignore it, talking to anyone at that time was something I wanted to ignore as much as I could. But it rang again, again and again until I gave up and answered a harsh,
“what.”
“Oh, I'm so sorry. I knew it was a bad time to call.”
Veronica said,
“I’m so sorry, I shouldn't have called.”
“No, no, it’s fine.”
I assured her, regretting how harsh my voice came out,
“Why did you call? Are you okay?”
“Yeah, I'm fine. I just…”
“What is it, Veronica?”
“I can't make it for my shift. Something came up here and I’m not in the right mind now and I'm caught up with this issue. So, I was wondering if you could cover for me?”
Veronica paused, waiting for my response while I regretted picking up the call.
“Of course. It’s by eight right?”
“Yes. Thank you so much!”
And before I could say anything else she ended the call.
With a deep sigh, I looked at the time on my phone screen, it read seven forty. I wondered what had come up that made Veronica to skip her shift, I wondered if she was okay and if it had anything to do with Romeo's case. I wondered if taking Veronica's shift that afternoon would also take things off my mind.
I arrived at Gresham three minutes to the start of Veronica’s shift, the campus restaurant hall that offered the best pasta and hamburgers, basically the best food. I greeted some of the workers on my way in. They smiled and laughed like they normally did, but I noticed the way they seemed to hold themselves back and stare at me, like I was a fragile being that will soon break. And maybe they were right, maybe it was a matter of time till I break, till I explode.
“You aren't working today.”
James stated. He was the assistant dean for the Latinx floors.
“Yeah, I’m covering for Veronica. She’s not feeling too well.”
“Well, are you? I heard what happened.”
“Yeah.”
I smiled, hoping I looked convincing enough,
“I think working will be good for me though. Besides, Veronica did sound pretty serious.”
He nodded and left it as that. It was obvious he wanted to say something, but thought against it, patted me on my shoulder and told me to take care of myself.
The rest of the afternoon was spent in a breeze — mostly cleaning the restaurant hall and doing the dishes. I couldn't go to the storage room because I didn't have access to it yet but Veronica did. I wasn't sure if working actually did the job of making me forget or it just made me think more.
Few minutes to the closing time, Carlos and a girl I recognize from flowersuns walked in to the room. Their eyes searched the hall like they were looking for something then it landed on me and Carlos smirked.
I turned around, trying to ignore them but they walked to me and tapped my shoulder.
“What is it?”
Carlos grinned,
“We just want to talk.”
I looked at the both of them,
“Since when did the both of you start hanging around?”
“That's none of your business, Vera, is it? We just want to talk.”
The girl, who I now remember as Alicia eyed me, and twisted the strand of the hoodie I was wearing. I drew back and took a step away from her, hating that she was so close.
“Is there any problem?”
I heard a voice echo behind me. It was James, he seemed to have come out from the storage room.
“Listen Vera, if you know what's good for you. You'll follow me, quietly.”
Carlos growled. I turned to James and yelled back that I was alright. Like Carlos warned, I followed him outside, to the side of the hall building — away from public eyes.
“What is it?”
“Like I said, we just want to talk.”
Carlos began,
“We are technically brothers, Vera. And I heard you got the ra job, congratulations.”
I rolled my eyes at that, he frowned but his face went back to that suspicious smile again,
“Seeing what you are putting us through, you should give us some free food.”
“Putting you through what?”
“You are fruity,”
Alicia hissed,
“A vile, attention seeking one that always wants the spotlight on him. The least you could do dear is to compensate us for having to deal with something like you.”
“It’s just free food. It’s the least you could do right?”
I shook my head and glared at them already having enough,
“I don't have time for this. I have to go back to work.”
I turned to leave, Carlos pinned me to the wall, hitting my shoulders and swore at me,
“I don't know who told you that you are in charge here but you're mistaken.”
“Just do what we want Vera and we’ll let you go.”
I glared at them and tried to get myself away from them, but Carlos was quick to pin me again to the wall and this time, he made sure he landed a good blow on my stomach and another on my arm. I could have not given in but they won't stop, won't stop talking, won't stop swearing, won't stop touching and blowing.
“I don't have access to it,”
I coughed,
“I don't, but Veronica does.”
“So go get her. Go get Veronica.”
“She's not here.”
“Call her then,”
Alicia laughed into my ear,
“Call Veronica to come here.”
And I did. With shaky hands, I retrieved my phone from my pockets and dialed Veronica's number. It went through but she wouldn't pick. So I tried again and again and again and again, but it went to voicemail. I decided to send a message online, I did. It read she was online but my message wasn't read.
“She's not answering.”
I choked out,
“She did say she is busy but let me go. Why harass me when I don't have access to anything!”
“Are you raising your voice at us?”
asked Carlos, attempting to land another punch on me, but I wasn't having it anymore. Before he could hit me, I twisted my body to the other side to avoid the blow. He was taken aback for a second, this gave me the opportunity to kick his crotch —though I almost missed— and land a blow on his stomach.
He yelled in pain, clinging between his legs. I didn't want him to recover from the impact, not yet at least, so I landed another lunch and another and another until I felt Alicia teeth sinking into the flesh on my upper back, followed by a small sized log of wood making a sharp pain filled impact with my legs, then arms and Carlos was on me again. He looked angry, really angry. He didn't fail to let me know that.
I didn't know exactly when but they left and I also didn't know how long I sat there drained and weak. There wasn't much damage done physically and the bruises weren't too visible, at least they were careful to not leave too much scars. But they did leave scars, only that no one could see them.
Still, I couldn't find it in me to get up and walk alone back home since I had no car with me. I didn't want to call anyone inside the hall and ask them for help, most definitely not James. But my pride seemed to have gotten the better of me and I ended up ringing a resident's phone.
In minutes, the resident's car rolled into the parking lot and then she found me sitting on the spot Carlos and Alicia had left me.
“Oh my God, Vera. Who did this to you?”
She grabbed my hands and helped me up, walking me to the parking lot and then her car.
“Who did this to you?”
She asked again, but I didn't want to speak or recall what happened so I shook my head, thanked her for coming and turned my head to the window.
The car ride was silent. Short but silent. I thanked her again for helping me when we got to the fraternity house and began to make my way to my room. She didn't follow me, but that's because I told her not to. I met Diego and Arturo on my way to my room, there was no sight of Carlos anywhere but at the sight of me, Diego smirked, like he knew what happened. I removed my gaze from him and continued my walk to my room.
I locked my door as soon as I got in and although, I tried to suppress it for so long, a tear slipped to my cheeks. It was gone as soon as it came, I wasn't going to cry now, not because of them.
My room was darkly lit, the windows and curtains were closed, only the lamp brought light, beside it was the bottle of antidepressants Romeo had given me, which I now considered as a gift.
In that moment, I was aching and it wasn't because of the blows Carlos had so generously given me. I didn't seem to feel so much from the bruises on my arms. My head felt like a scene where so much was happening and playing at once. I couldn't stop it, not when my heart also drummed in heavy beats divers of crazy chords.
I sat on my bed, gripping the antidepressants bottle so hard a vein could have been cut. I told myself a while back I wouldn't need them, but now, the thoughts in my head wouldn't stop pushing themselves forward, whispering in my ears, I couldn't stop it. With a deep sigh, I twisted the cover of the bottle open and sitting in it was a small piece of paper. Unwrapping it, I saw how hurried the hand writing was and although, I have only seen it on two occasions, I could recognize that handwriting and the photograph glued on it.
It was Romeo's suicide note.
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