Three years ago, there was news circulating the school about a senior student who died while in the school premises.
Rumors said she had committed suicide at the rooftop, but the admin officials didn’t admit it nor divulged any information on the matter. As much as they wanted to keep the incident a closed-door, they couldn’t stop the curious minds from speculating.
I was in fourth grade when it happened and even if we have a separate building from the highschoolers, the intensity of the news didn’t fail to reach us. I could remember my classmates telling spooky stories nonstop, even giving a dare to those who were into ghost hunting. I was never into fabricated stories meant to scare people, but getting to hear such things for the next few weeks hadn’t failed to give me a chill.
Nicole Lorenzo. Her name kept on echoing in my head as I spaced out in our Statistics class.
The news three years ago made me create my own speculations on the cause of her death. It was unusual, and it had given me a sense of mystery. But as time passed, speculations only ended up as speculations, and as all stories with no updates go, they too, just died in the end.
What Calvin Lorenzo told me yesterday, however, sparked my interest like a sleeping engine that had come back to life.
“My mom and I were skeptical at first if it was suicide. But hearing how the investigations turned out, we accepted it and moved on,” he told me yesterday.
“But just a week ago, someone left an envelope in my bag. I don’t know who did it but I think that person knows what really happened.” Calvin was hesitating to show me the envelope but I assured him he could trust me.
“I’m Yana’s friend, and her closest ally. We’re here to help you,” I said to him, shamelessly exaggerating the part ‘closest’ to her, but oh well.
Convinced enough, he took a folded envelope from his pocket and showed me a couple of pictures. I examined them and noticed handwritten notes at the back. I read them and remained silent for a while.
Initially, I thought Calvin came to a student rep for help because either: he was too shy to approach his teacher; or, he thought he wouldn’t be taken seriously by an adult. But even I, as a fellow student, wasn’t sure then if I should believe him either.
Maybe Calvin sensed my apprehension so he broke the silence. “I don't understand all that it says, but I have a feeling it could be connected to her death. I knew my sister. She was smart and brave. She wasn’t the type to kill herself. ‘An agent of justice has to take care of herself so that she can take care of others,’ she kept on telling me. To jump from the rooftop? Heck, she was even afraid of heights. Mom agreed to all of these.”
“If you have felt strongly against it, then why didn’t you push through with the investigation?” I asked.
“It’s because the police found a suicide letter in her pocket that day. It was weird though. First off, it was typewritten—I mean—for someone who likes to write in her notebook a lot, it didn’t feel like her at all. It’s like it was hastily done with all those grammatical errors. My sister was in the Newspaper Club. She was so careful about grammar and everything.” He sighed. “But they still counted it as evidence and ruled it out as suicide.”
I looked at the contents of the envelope once again. “If these photos tell the truth, and if it does have something to do with your sister’s death, then why was it sent to you only now?”
“I honestly don’t know.” Calvin shrugged. “But I’m 100% sure it was her handwriting at the back of these photos. And I just can’t ignore this, knowing that I can uncover something. I haven’t told anyone, even my mom. I’ll let her know once I’ve figured it out.”
He then looked at me. “I was… hoping the student board could help me. Ms. Yana seems to be the most approachable of all so I thought of seeking her help. I wonder if you could help me reach her.”
My recollection of yesterday’s conversation was interrupted by the bell signaling the end of last period. I closed my eyes as I wrapped up my thoughts about yesterday. Who would’ve expected that approaching a strange freshman outside the room would turn out like this?
“Rin, are you okay?”
My eyes instantly darted to the girl sitting beside me. “Ah, yes,” I lied.
“Are you sure? You look like you’re having a headache.” Yana was frowning. I let out a soft chuckle, amused at how right she was.
“You should go home now. You don’t have to wait for me, okay?” She touched my cheek and caressed it with her thumb.
“Okay.”
Yana waved at me as she headed out for the afterschool SB meeting, while I—was already packing my things as I had decided to go to the library.