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She had caused Erin to die.
Her and Kevin killed Erin.
They should have let him die, found a way to save his beautiful Erin.
But they did not.
It was a waste, their efforts. It was like saving a corpse. Ian's heart was still beating, but he didn't feel alive, no, not anymore. Not now, with Erin gone, with nails in her head.
He had never paid much attention to Wendy. Maybe he'd say something to her if they sat together in a class, but she wasn't important to him. All he had ever wanted to do was get away from Mckinley, and he had planned on taking Erin with him.
Who would hold his hand now? Who would hug him after stressful days? Who would hang out with him? Who would put up with his bullshit?
Only Erin would have.
Now, he was alone. He'd be alone for the rest of his life.
Suicide had come to his mind multiple times. It would be easy, just some pills, just a knife, just a.. nailgun.
How come Wendy got to walk away? How come Kevin got to walk away? How come he himself got to walk away?
Erin hadn't ever done anything wrong. The world had done her wrong.
"Erin? What's wrong, why are you crying?" He had said to her. It was the end of the school day, but Erin started crying as soon as she got in the passenger seat.
She shook her head, trying to wipe away her tears, but new ones rushed out. "I'm sorry, I'm just.. fucking messed up, I guess. Haha."
He turned to look at her, hating that fake laugh. Hating it as much as her eyeliner being messed up for reasons he didn't understand. His heart ached at her shaky body, at the way her arm.. her arm. Her arm.
"Erin.. What.. Why?" He gently grabbed her wrist, looking over the few cuts she had made.
Ian knew she had problems, knew it because he had them too. It didn't stop him from feeling terrible whenever she did something like this.
"It just gets to be too much, Ian. My parents yell a lot, I can't keep up with everybody else, I just.. I don't want to deal with it anymore." She explained.
He frowned, locking his hand with hers, trying to squeeze it and provide the comfort she desperately needed.
They both sighed at the same time, and Erin giggled at it.
He didn't know how she could laugh at a time like this.
Every time Ian remembered that day, he'd want to disappear. Especially now, with his angel gone. His angel, who didn't deserve to feel like that.
Right about now, he felt like Wendy deserved to feel like that.
Deserved to feel alone, helpless- or hopeless.. either worked. If only she could feel a fraction of the pain Erin had.
He knew it was wrong to think that. Wendy had already lost Jason, and she had been friends with Wendy, too. They actually liked each other, unlike how Ian didn't care much.
His closet had an assortment of blacks and reds and grays. Usually, outfits mattered to him. Not today. And not yesterday, when his pajamas were just nothing. It was hard to think with death fresh in his mind. He tried a little bit this time, though. Maybe if Erin saw him, she'd be impressed at his will to try after watching him freak out the entire day.
He didn't believe in the afterlife, or any kind of higher power. He just wanted her to be watching him.
He grabbed his keys and left everything else behind.
Following Wendy didn't feel good. His seat still had one of Erin's jackets on it. She had left it behind. He didn't have to check to know it still smelt like her.
In the cupholder, her eyeliner pencil. Every time he glanced at it, he could remember her.
"Ian, I accidentally got brown!" She yelled from the bathroom, in one of his t-shirts. They had just spent the night together, and were getting ready for school.
"Aw, shit, really?" He called back, slipping his pants on and walking over to where she was, putting his hands around her waist.
He admired how they looked in the mirror.
"Babe, you can't even tell. It looks black to me."
"You can't tell, but I can."
He wanted to wipe that frown off her face, reassure her that it wasn't that big of a deal..
"Okay. If it bothers you that much, just stand it for today, I'll go get you an actual black one tomorrow." He offered, rocking side to side with her. She could still apply her eyeliner, and he admired it. She was so talented.
"Really?"
"Yes, really."
The frown faded away, and her bright smile replaced it. He kissed her neck, appreciating the shudder it brought out of her.
"I love you." She whispered.
"I love you too."
Ian shook his head, trying to focus on the road. He could remember eyeliner stories and sad talks in the van later.
As he looked ahead, he groaned.
"How the fuck did I lose Wendy?"
He had looked too long at that damn eyeliner, let the memories clog his mind up.
Directions weren't something he had thought of. His plan was to just follow Wendy, but now he didn't know where the hell she was.
After twenty minutes of trying to even get a glimpse of her car, he gave up.
On his drive back to his home, he saw fireworks, letting him know where exactly she was.
He sped up the car, not caring if he'd get in trouble or not. Maybe it'd be for the better, maybe it would've been just what Wendy needed.
Just as he got out of his vehicle, displeased by the American flags and loud fireworks, a loud 'thud' scared the shit out of him. He nearly fell over, but he steadied himself.
For a split second, his brain reminded him of how Erin couldn't steady herself, how she fell right into death's arms.. He groaned, tears stinging his eyes.
He could save it for the pillow, he needed to get to Wendy.
But it was too late. A sign had hit the floor apparently, and the blood and guts on the grass let him know everything he needed to.
"Holy shit!" He yelled, catching the attention of Kevin and Julie.
Kevin had some sort of look in his eye, but Ian knew better than to stick around and try to figure anything out.
The fucking sign crushed Wendy.
Those words repeated in his head as he rushed back to his van, driving away into the night, trying to ignore the yells and the footsteps of Kevin. The cries of Julie, who had just lost her dear sister.
He tried to drown it out with music, but it all reminded him of what had happened.
"Turn around, look at me.."
He changed it, because he wouldn't turn around. Never again.
He found some instrumental song, not recognizing it. It was better than anything else.
He wiped away his stream of tears with his red sleeve.
"FUCK!"
Could he feel any more terrible?
Julie's sobs rang throughout his mind, Kevin's distraught expression, Erin's terrible moan of pain.
No, they were not equal in death's eyes. How could the world treat innocent teenagers so cruelly?
--
A month passed, and Ian had fled Mckinley. He knew he wasn't in trouble, but everywhere he looked, a reminder would come up.
A call from Erin's parents was the only reason he was driving home, the sunset above orange, just like her hair.
Her gorgeous hair.
They had said they wanted him to keep the diary she had.
At first, he wanted to say no. They were part of the reason she was in so much pain, pain that he should've tried harder to help with, so she wouldn't have died with such a fucked up mental state..
..but the sound of her mother crying, her father's weak and pathetic voice. They must've regretted it, as much as he regretted not doing more.
He was wearing the jacket she had left behind, enjoying the comfort of her scent, the lipgloss stain on the sleeve.
And as he thought of her, what words she could have wrote about him, about all their dates, late night movie watches, silly nicknames like Zip and Pip, his van collided with another.
An orange car, orange like the same sky that reminded him of her. It happened so quickly, he didn't even realize until the pain took him over.
Even in that moment, with the excruciating pain, the air gone from his lungs, the blood, the fire forming from the other car, the screams of drivers and people on walks, he couldn't find himself to be sad.
As he looked out the window, the sign letting people know they had entered Mckinley came into his line of sight, and the radio played "Turn Around, Look At me".
How pathetic was it that his last name was the same as the town he died in?