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And so, three weeks later, Sean finally mustered up the strength to face Meghan’s room for the first time after her death.
He wandered down her hallway, limping slightly. It was against Carina's orders, but he was sick of the crutches that had immobilized him for weeks. Months, maybe? Time had moved strangely lately, his vision swimming as though everything was one long, strange dream.
The Island of Fire, the Island of Legends, the Island of Shipwrecks. His legs, crushed twice over and shattered into so many pieces that even Carina hadn't had the heart to count them out to him. The half-conscious flight under Simber, buffeted by the wind. Each movement, every slight touch, felt like a Hellish punishment for it all. Then, being nursed back to health, slowly but surely, so much medication forced down his throat that everything just felt numb. But his sister had been there. Meghan had been there.
Now she wasn’t.
A group of girls gave him a pitiful glance as they walked by. Everyone knew Sean Ranger, and everyone knew what had happened to Meghan. Alex had made sure of that when they buried her body out on the lawn. By this point, they’d buried so many people that the tiny graveyard had taken on a life of its own. When there was time, people would decorate headstones for the bodies, and a speech would be given about the person. So when, a few weeks after the battle, there was time, he and Alex had spoken about Meghan to dozens of gathered people. Some were friends, or classmates, but even the ones who weren't had at least a passing knowledge of who Meghan had been. Everyone had loved her.
It was gruesome, but it had to be done. She had been such a ray of light… A beautiful song in a tough moment… So cheerful and friendly and kind…
Sean sniffled and wiped the tears from his eyes, finally arriving at her door.
“Good evening, Sean Ranger,” it said.
“Good evening,” he replied softly. He took a deep breath, trying to steel himself for what was to come, and then wrapped his hand around the doorknob, turning it with a slow click and pushing it open slowly.
Sean wasn't certain what to expect; a ghost jumping out at him, his sister calling out to him? He was met with an eerie stillness and nothing more than dead shadows.
Luckily for him, the lights slowly turned on as he walked in. He glanced around at the walls, taking it all in. He hadn’t gone into Meghan’s room much during her time here, since the two preferred to spend their days chatting in the lounge with Earl or hanging out on the beach and lawn, but it wasn’t his first time in here, either. It looked no different than it had before.
The first door on the left was the entryway into her bathroom, the doorway after that led to her living room, and at the end of the small hallway was the open door into her bedroom.
He dragged his fingers along the wall as he poked his head into the living room door frame. “Hey, Evelyn. It’s Sean. I’m just…gonna say goodbye, I guess.”
The blackboard stayed silent, its surface an uninterrupted sea of ink. Perhaps she had already been reassigned, or maybe she mourned, too. He would have to ask Alex. He didn't want to ask Alex.
He turned back and walked through the door frame into her room. To the right, her bed was unmade—that was unusual for her, but her final day had been a hectic one—with blankets forming untouched waves. A pile of books sat on the desk in the middle of the room, as well as an open folder of sheet music. To Sean’s left, her closet door was ajar, showing off all the pretty clothing that she had stockpiled over the years.
He made his way into the closet, pushing the door open and marveling at it all. Her clothes were all shades of cheerful whites and pinks and greens, a mosaic of frills and poofs and whatnot. He could almost feel his own dull-colored outfit sucking the life out of it all.
Tears threatened to spill forth as Sean ran his hands through the fabric, looking at each of the outfits that Meghan wore, picturing her far too clearly in his mind in each of them. There was the fluffy cowprint jacket; there were her favorite white boots that could never stay clean while she wore them, but always magically sparkled again after she took them off. There was her mountain of pink skirts, each with a different pattern for different occasions.
Finally, he found her dress from the very first party that they’d had. It wasn't originally her masquerade dress, but it was synonymous with the event in his mind now. Sean remembered the countless days and nights that he had helped Meghan put it together for her big stage performance. She had been so excited to mix her music and her dancing, and wanted to add a flashy dress to go along with it. It was during her second year in Artimé, so she had some experience with fashion, but Sean had helped her design and construct the dress.
It had come out perfectly. Piles of ruffles and petticoats, adorned with fabric flowers, had come together to make a beautiful ballgown that matched Meghan perfectly. She had been so excited to wear it when the day came…
And then she’d gone to Warbler, and when she came back, Artimé had disappeared. The performance never occurred, especially once her voice had been left broken by the golden thornament woven through her skin. Instead, she had worn it to the masquerade, and tried to act like it didn't bother her that it wasn't perfect for the occasion.
Sean took the dress off of its hanger and draped it over his arm, then turned and left her closet, closing the door behind him.
He laid the dress over the back of her desk chair and carefully pushed it in, then closed her folder of sheet music. He tried not to drip tears onto any of the papers, but he couldn’t help it. He wiped them away as quickly as he could, even though there wasn't a point to it.
He made her bed, fluffing her pillows and organizing them from largest to smallest, the way she used to. He put the books back on her bookshelf, and put her instruments back into the spots she always kept them: oboe sitting next to her desk, piccolo back on the shelf, violin in the corner with her trombone.
His throat was tight as he got back to the dress. He sat down on the floor next to her chair and wiped his hands over his face, wet with tears. This was the final time her room would be organized. The last time her things would ever be in the spot she didn’t want them, like she had yelled at him for before. Really, this was the end of anyone seeing her room ever again.
Sean wiped his eyes with his shirt sleeve. The colors seemed even duller than before.
How many more times would he have to do this?
He wasn't sure how long he sat there, before he finally stood up and draped her dress over his arm again. He took one last glance at the room before shutting the door. He didn’t even look in the living room as he left, closing her door one final time, and walking back down the hallway.
He smiled at Simber when he walked onto the balcony. He waved to Carina when he saw her down the family hallway with Seth. He saw Alex and Samheed walking out on the lawn, having a heated discussion while Lani and Sky watched and laughed. He nodded at Henry, still locked away in the hospital wing, when their gazes met.
Sean would never move on, but now all that was left of Meghan was put to rest. He hung the dress in his closet, deep at the back, a reminder that she would always be part of him. He still cried some days, thinking about how much life she had missed out on. But life moved on, and so did he.