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"You don’t deserve to live."
“I know.”
“If I could… I would end you.”
“Do it.”
The disgust in Sam Carpenter's eyes was real. Just like the hate. Amber could feel it even though thick glass separated them in this visitor room.
“I hope you rot in hell.” Those were her last words before smashing the telephone receiver into its little hanger on the partition wall and rushing out.
The room fell silent, as everyone in the room followed her with their eyes. Anyone but Amber. She stared at the picture Sam had brought, still laying there on the other side of the glass.
A picture of Tara.
Sam wanted to hurt her with it.
What she didn’t know was that Amber had taken that certain photo years ago.
So…
…so…
…many years ago.
They were in 8th grade, Tara grinning at her as they goofed around in Amber’s bed that late afternoon, the sun already setting.
“I think that boy liked you.” Tara whispered and Amber stopped mid motion.
“Huh?”
“Wes… I think?”
“Pff….” Amber just answered. “He seemed more interested in your notes (or you) than me. He leaned over so many times and asked you obvious stuff….”
“But he’s nice…”
“And annoying.”
“Don’t be so mean.” Tara smiled, her hand suddenly caressing Amber’s face. It was just brief but…
Amber could feel the touch even now.
Even after all these years.
Amber had blushed, grabbing her phone, just to avoid Tara’s gaze, before taking a picture of the latter.
“What was that?” Tara asked, giggling.
“I just wanted to capture this moment…”
“Why?”
“Because… you look… cute?”
“Is that a fact or a question, Miss Freeman?” Tara asked without expecting an answer, her voice suddenly so soft, almost a whisper, as she pulled Amber closer, into a kiss.
Their first kiss ever.
Amber still remembered the soft tune of Trampoline by Ruby Roberts playing in the background, Tara’s soft lips that tasted so electric and exciting… Her breath on her lips as they parted, looking each other deeply in the eyes before falling back onto the bed, softly giggling.
That warm summer night something blossomed between them, something real and as much as Amber adored the memory, she wished it never happened.
For Tara’s sake.
Tara, who laid so lonely six feet under ground, in her grave, probably half rotten by now.
“No.” Amber shook her head to push away those pictures that started to manifest in her mind. She didn’t want to…
No.
Sam didn’t know that whenever she wished death upon Amber, she would do her a favor. That Amber wished that maybe with that, Sam could find peace as well. After all these years.
But for now, there was no peace. Just a room full with silent people and a picture of Tara staring at her through thick glass.
"Tara... I'm sorry..."