I Rize (4 page)

Not a single soul in the room stood up. The entire gym got quiet.

“I’m not surprised no one took a stand. It’s hard for people to see the faults within themselves, but so easy to see the faults in others. I have an assignment for a select few of you. I made a copy of a poem Adny gave to me a long time ago. It may help some of you understand the negative impacts of bullying.”

She stopped for a moment to lift clipped copies of Adny’s poem for everyone to see. “A copy will be passed out to each of you. The people whose names I call need to come to the front for everyone to see. Terri Storm. Shandi Downey. Madison Cooper.”

They each stumbled behind each other while taking the walk of shame. They were required to read the poem in designated sections.

The girls did not know how to respond in front of a crowd of nearly two thousand students. For the first time in their high school lives, they received unwelcomed attention; stares marked down their corrupt paths. Many people sitting before them harbored all of Adny’s feelings from the past three years—loneliness, despair, shamefulness.

While reading their parts, it seemed as if they each pled their case to be spared. Judgment day had arrived. The audience became their judge between Heaven and Hell. For anyone who had ever been hurt, it was his or her time to feel vindicated. No crimes would go unscathed. No one would leave exonerated of his or her evil deeds. The conjured grudges lingered around the gym.

Voice cracking, mouth muttering, Terri read the last lines of the poem.

She was able to form

a graceful bridge between them,

in which she carefully crossed,

not ever thinking of looking back.

Once over this bridge,

it broke with her new mind.

And they were sadly stuck on the other side,

stupidly seeking to hurt her again.

Her soft silence weakened them.

All three girls stepped back, their eyes never leaving the last lines of the poem.

“You all are speechless. I expressed the same reaction when I read the poem for the first time. I want each of you to go home and prepare a letter addressed to Adny for the upcoming gathering. I pray that all of you will leave your prejudices at the door.”

Madison pushed Gracie aside while walking out of the gym. “Move, fat hog, you’re in my way.”

Junior stopped Gracie’s movement as she began walking away with her head down. He lifted her chin to look into her eyes. “Hey, I’m Junior. I see you around school from time to time. What’s your name?”

He could tell his attentiveness startled her and forced her out of her comfort zone. Her invisible bubble shielding closeness with anyone was broken by his simple words. He could barely hear her respond, “My name is Gracie.”

Looking closer at her eyes, he wanted her to feel even more comfortable during their brief moment of contact. “Wish I had bright green eyes like yours. Mine are all brown and boring.”

She slightly chuckled, but didn’t respond.

“Gracie, what color dye did you use in your hair? The color looks gorgeous on you. I’m gonna steal it.”

Gracie laughed even more, finally talking, “It’s called Midnight Bliss.”

When he sensed her level of comfort increase, his tone became much more serious. Gracie’s laughter quieted. “Gracie, keep your head up high. Don’t let Madison get to you, because she’s a waste of human life. I used to always tell Adny what my grandfather told me. There are always two choices in life. You can choose to give in to the tormentors by being the victim, and they win. Or you can choose to give out by being the victor, and they lose.”

Before leaving for the police station, Junior grabbed both of her hands and said, “Remember, the choice is yours.”

J
unior walked into the police station not knowing what to expect. In the two years they had been in a relationship, Mickey never acted in such a sporadic manner. Some officers were busy answering phones and many sat out in the front talking to concerned citizens. Junior found the first available person he saw. He walked up from behind, lightly tapping the man’s shoulder. The man towered over Junior, and intimidation struck his core, making it very difficult to speak.

“Excuse me, sir.” He was taken aback by how tall the detective was. “My name is Junior.” His thoughts were locked, struggling to spew the next flow of words. “I’m looking for Mickey Torres … I think he was brought here earlier today.”

Junior attracted the interest of Detective Miller, the lead detective on the case. “Yah, he was brought in. I was planning on asking him a few questions regarding Adny’s case.”

Junior noticed Michelle standing outside of the interrogation room with a different officer, staring through the glass. He brought his hand over her shoulder to signal his presence. She was asked to come in to verify Mickey’s voice on the 9-1-1 tapes.

Junior blocked out the officer questioning Michelle to focus on Mickey. When Detective Miller walked in, Mickey directed his attention away. Junior knew when Mickey’s nerves overtook his body because both of his legs always shook. Similar to how Mickey was reacting around the detective, he could never look Junior in the eyes when he was nervous.

Mickey’s parents hired a lawyer who tried to make the situation as painless as possible.

The lawyer failed to ease the tension.

Detective Miller placed the usual recording device used for all interrogations on the stained wooden table in the darkened room. The usual protocol was to ask the suspect’s name for recording purposes. Protocol was ignored because Mickey could barely talk. The questioning occurred rather quickly.

“Look, Mickey, I’m going to be nice and give you two choices because you seem like a good kid. Choice one, you tell me what really happened, and you go home. Choice two, you keep your mouth closed, and I lock you up. You will never see your family again. You decide.”

He pulled out a manila folder from his bag and placed it on the table. Mickey continued to look down at his jittering legs while fiddling his thumbs.

“Mickey, this folder contains the coroner’s report of Adny’s autopsy.”

Mickey lifted his head and spoke through covered hands over his mouth. “What do you mean her autopsy? She’s dead?”

Junior watched enough interrogations on television to know that Detective Miller was bluffing. The manila folder was empty. He had a general idea of how the investigative system worked. Detective Miller would treat Mickey as a murder suspect—as if Adny were already dead.

“Mickey, your friend is gone. Establishment has been cleared. I can make a jury believe guilty until proven innocent in a heartbeat. But I know that’s not what you want. Tell me what happened.”

Junior sensed Mickey’s guilt as his voice cracked, and he knew the detective did, too. The tactic was working.

Mickey’s eyes began to water. “I … don’t know.”

“You can’t use that line with me. We both know you were the one to make the 9-1-1 call. What did you do to Adny?”

Mickey’s lawyer motioned her arm in front of Detective Miller’s face to get his attention. “My client has the right to the Fifth Amendment. He doesn’t have to say anything that may incriminate him.”

Detective Miller ignored the lawyer to play the 9-1-1 recording.

911 Dispatcher
:
9-1-1, what’s your emergency?

Mickey
:
She can’t breathe.

It was Junior’s first time hearing the recording. Mickey asked Detective Miller to stop the recording, but it kept playing ‘til it got near the end. Anger prevented him from crying. He could hear Michelle begin to sob, but couldn’t bring himself to look back at her. Sadness stopped him from talking.

911 Dispatcher:
What happened to her?

Mickey:
My friend tried to kill herself.

Mickey’s lips tightened as he placed both hands over his ears. Junior fought the urge against his rage to run in and choke Mickey to death.

Detective Miller pressed the stop button to calm Mickey back down. “Mickey, I can tell by your reaction that you cared about Adny. I am going to say it again because I don’t think you heard me. Your voice is on the 9-1-1 tape. You were in her room.”

Mickey rested his hands back on his lap while staring at the recording device. Detective Miller leaned in closer, their faces nearly touching. “Was it to seek revenge? Was it to hurt her? Or did you crumble under the pressure, allowing the weight of life to snap you in half?”

Mickey stood and looked the detective directly in his eyes. Detective Miller alertly sat up when his tone and demeanor shifted. “Detective, I may not be sure about everything, but I am definitely sure that I would never hurt a friend … or a fly, at that.” He sat back down and motioned toward his lawyer showing his readiness to leave.

While Mickey walked out of the room, Detective Miller spoke without turning around. “Mickey, I want you to imagine if you had a child. You hear her screams over the phone. Not able to help. Not able to say a word. Her cries fill your ears with unpleasant thoughts. There is nothing between the both of you but a phone. All you could do was sit and wait, unable to physically help, but only hear your child die.”

Mickey rushed out of the room and accidentally bumped into Junior. Their eyes connected without the need for words. Junior quickly left the police station in tears, causing Detective Miller to run after him.

“How do you know Mickey?”

Junior wiped his tears away and said, “I’m Junior. Mickey and I are in a relationship.”

Detective Miller pulled a tissue from his front pocket. “I did not get a chance to introduce myself earlier. He extended his hand for a greeting. “I’m Detective Miller, the lead detective on the case. I know you and Adny are close.”

“We are. She’s my best friend. I want to find out what happened just as much as anyone else does.”

“Junior, I am here to help you.” He pulled out a business card from his pocket, motioning for Junior to take it. “Please do not hesitate to call.”

Junior took a moment to look over the card before responding. He noticed the caption above Detective Miller’s head read:
CALL THE THRILL SEEKER FOR JUSTICE
.

“Detective, I know of a few names you could start with.”

Junior chuckled to himself at the excitement the detective expressed when he pulled out his pen and writing pad.

“May I have their names?”

“They are Shandi Downey, Madison Cooper, and Adny’s stepsister, Terri Storm.”

“Were they her friends?”

“No, sir, not even close.” Detective Miller tilted his hat to the side. “If you have time tomorrow, I want to talk in my office.”

Junior nodded and got into his car to go home for the evening.

W
hen Junior walked into the quaint house that evening, the smell of spaghetti caused his stomach to rumble louder. He walked into the dining room and observed how everyone ate in silence. Adny’s usual seat was left empty. Everyone looked down at their plates, not interacting with one another. Usually, dinnertime was the family’s moment to connect, not to divide.

Darla and Junior left the table and sat on the edge of the stair railing from above. They both watched Michelle get up from her seat and lean down beside Adny’s favorite chair in prayer. It was the only chair that faced the television. It was the perfect spot for sitting during basketball season—the family’s favorite pastime.

Shandi came over to spend the night and followed Terri to go talk on the stairs. When Junior heard them converse from the bottom of the stairs, he told Darla to go to her room so she wouldn’t hear the harsh banter heard so many times about Adny during school, but she didn’t listen.

“Shandi, I was right. Even when Adny is gone,
Little Miss Perfect
still gets all the attention.”

Shandi rocked back and forth, holding her stomach. Terri nudged her side to make her stop. “You have been acting weird ever since we stayed the night at my boyfriend’s house last year. Are you all right?”

Shandi didn’t respond and looked past her to a picture of Adny on the wall.

“Shandi, I want the chance to rip the long hair off her tiny little head.” They ran back up to Terri’s room. Chatter filled the air until they fell asleep.

E
very night when everyone fell asleep, Michelle would go upstairs and check on the kids before she went to bed. She first went into Darla’s room and saw her bundled up under the Disney princess covers.

She sat up in the bed beside Darla. “Darla, you can’t sleep?”

“No. I miss Adny too much, Momma. Is she coming home from the hospital soon?”

She kissed Darla on her forehead. “Baby, hopefully sooner than we think.”

Darla lifted her body up against the headboard. “Momma, earlier today me and Junior heard Terri and her friend talking about Adny on the stairs.”

Michelle narrowed her eyebrows. “What did they say?”

“Terri said that she doesn’t want Adny to come back home.”

She pulled Darla in closer to her chest. “Don’t worry about anything she says. I know Adny will come home again. Now try and get some sleep for school tomorrow. Mommy loves you.”

“Goodnight, Momma.”

She stayed in the room until Darla closed her eyes and fell into a deep sleep. Beside Darla’s room was Terri’s. She walked in, and Shandi and Terri were sound asleep at opposite ends of the bed. A blinking light flickering from the front of Terri’s laptop caught her attention.

She looked at the screen and saw a picture in multiple tiles formed on the background. It was edited and cropped with the phrase, ‘
Adny is a slut’
covering it entirely. The picture showed a girl with her back turned, performing an obscene act with one of the football players. She closed closed the laptop and left the room.

She walked out into the dark hall, peering through Adny’s room. The alarm clock was still stuck on 8:30. When the door was slammed shut, her hand remained on the doorknob as she repeated the phrase, “This can’t be real. Baby, please come back to me.”

J
unior heard a door slamming through the thin walls. He stood from his bed, startled. The bedroom door was locked, and he placed his headphones on to watch a new video.