The next day, I didn't go to school.
I guess Monday was when they told them everything that had happened. It was the normal thing to do, at least.
I hope no one else finds out, although this kind of thing spreads faster than wildfire. If I ever see some scumbag from the news on my doorstep, I won't hesitate to slam the door in his face, even if I have to leave his face flat.
I feel bad that they know, especially &$%"!, but it is inevitable.
I don't need to mention this, but I didn't tell anyone about what I read on ^[Ç+?'s computer. I know I should have said it as soon as I found out, but I don't want to, at least not yet.
For my part, I don't want to read more than what's written. Even though you have the right to read my note, I don't want to read it; I don't want to have anything to do with it.
I was locked up for the rest of the day. My father had to bring lunch and dinner up to my room, and at least I was looking forward to eating it.
But the dilemma of being locked in that room wasn't just a one-day thing. Tuesday was the same; I didn't do much while locked in there. Most of my time there consisted of lying in bed, trying to get back to sleep.
Little by little, I began to eat less. I refused the food my father brought me, I had no appetite, and I felt like eating was expending more energy than I was gaining, even though after doing so little, I couldn't sleep at night. That didn't matter, because even if I was tired, I wouldn't stop worrying about it.
No matter what I did that day, I knew what I had to do the next day. My father had a suit of his that fit me, so I was practically obligated to go to the funeral.
I don't know how people would react if I didn't go. I don't know if they would feel sorry for thinking I'm so down, or if they would be indignant that I didn't have the courage to show up.
I just know that both options are equally difficult.
I don't feel like going, but I don't have the courage to stay. I feel like if I go, I'll ruin everything one way or another, I'll do something that will make everyone look at me with disdain.
And even if I don't do anything, people should already be angry with me. They should know what I've done, and they'll assume it's all my fault.
Still, it's a punishment I'll never get. I'll never be judged for laziness, because it will all be covered up as a mere tragedy, as something unforeseeable, but equally avoidable.
That's my sin, not avoiding it. If I've already broken the barrier of the unpredictable, there's no point in leaving it there. Only a fool would leave a degree half-finished. Either you finish it, no matter how far behind you are, or you don't do it in the first place.
I think I know what I'm going to do tomorrow. If my father forces me to go, I'll go, swallow my pride and shame, and present myself to everyone. But if he lets me stay here, that's what I'll do.
I'll let her rest. I don't think she wants to see my face right now, especially when all she'll see is a black cloak that obscures what's on the other side. I also haven't earned the right to attend the funeral, so it would be disrespectful to go.
How can I earn respect? Will I even have another sister to lean on? Will I even know someone I can help? I'd probably just take advantage of that person like a dirty rag.
That's why I don't want to go, but that's not the only reason, of course. My mother will be there too.
I don't want to see her. That's definite. I don't think I'd be too upset if I went, since I don't know if what I feel is anger or fear of seeing her. I just know that she respects us enough to come to the funeral. In any case, I would respect ^[Ç+? and Dad coming, he doesn't have to respect me.
The only thing I can do now is sleep, and maybe pray. Even though I don't know what outcome I want, and what's best for me, I want to pray for the best outcome from all of this.
" What god are you going to pray to, if you can't even believe in yourself?"
He started talking, like last night.