Her Name Was

DAY ONE

When people who have graduated high school think about it, only hazy, foggy memories appear. For this high schooler and most, it was the same: hazy, foggy memories of the day and before. But, not this day. 

The day starts as a high schooler’s normal, typical day begins. The urgent rush and chaos between dressing, packing, and running to the bus stop. The incessant need to check if anything was missing -- certainly not last night’s homework. Throughout the ride to school, Aliyah could not mute the constant thoughts and troubled feelings of how she might have forgotten something. Was it her watch, her water bottle, or her book for English class? No, she checked and she had all of those. So what could it be? 

Those thoughts and feelings had plagued her. As soon as she entered the school’s cafeteria through the school’s backdoor, she sensed a worse feeling that something was wrong. A thought had occurred to her that maybe her need to check if something was missing might be connected to the horrible feeling that something was wrong at this moment in the cafeteria. She quickly made notes of her surroundings. 

At every table, people were standing, glancing at their phones and talking frantically to the person besides them. It was louder than usual, almost as if people had forgotten where they were. Aliyah reached her friends across the cafeteria. They were all talking over one another with blatant shock on their faces. 

“Subhanallah! How could someo-” One friend said with a thick sadness glossing over her expression. 

“People just do. It’s common,” Another friend interrupted. “We should pray for her family.”

They all nodded. For a moment, everything was silent. Whatever they had been discussing had hovered over the cafeteria, and in their heads, leaving behind a fragile, hesitant silence. 

Aliyah, feeling confused, waved a friend over to her side, and asked: “What happened?”

Her friend stared at her with a shocked and sad expression. “You don’t know?”

Aliyah shook her head. “Know what?”

Her friend pulled Aliyah closer, as if she was telling her a shocking secret, and pulled out her phone. She opened one of her social media app, Snapchat, and finger tapped to reveal a story with a screenshot of a girl with texts mentioning suicide. 

Aliyah suddenly felt that urge again, the urge that she was missing something. The girl was familiar, but something was different. She wasn’t sure, but she knew her. 

A feeling of numbness suddenly came over her, as if her body knew she needed protection over what she was about to say next. If she asked this question, the answer could unleash a hell of its own to war with her mind and soul. Aliyah sucked in a heavy breath and asked: “What’s her name?”

DAY TWO

Aliyah could barely remember a moment in her life where suicide was discussed. It was a taboo topic in her Muslim home, community, and at her public school. Yet, she could count the times she learned about this topic on one hand. The first was through a mental health awareness tumblr post mentioning suicide. That was when, at the age of twelve, she first learned what it meant. After that, Aliyah did research around suicide. She found out that in Islam, suicide is a sin. Those who took their own lives will risk a chance of going to hell. Aliyah might have been just twelve, but she still thought it was wrong. She could not believe that people who were in too much pain to live would be punished for it. She did more research. In America, suicide was the second leading cause of death for teens. Throughout her research, Aliyah still struggled to find the answer to one preeminent question: Why?

Aliyah never understood death. She understood that it was the end of life, but she never felt as if it was real. When people spoke about death in books, movies, or conversations, Aliyah felt nothing. There was no attachment to the subject. Aliyah thought perhaps it was because of the sheer fact that she has never been near death. No one she ever knew has died so far in her fifteen years of living. Until yesterday. 

The day before felt unreal as if it was fabricated by her mind. That was easier to believe than the reality of what had occurred. The morning announcement during the first period started off with the principal acknowledging her death. The principal's voice, filled with sorrow, announced “There will be help for anyone who needs it. I know today is a difficult day, but we have many counselors on standby, so don’t hesitate to talk to someone.” Despite his hopeful message, nothing could change the gloomy and solemn mood that hung over the school. This mood followed her to her next class, the English class Aliyah had shared with her. The class where she experienced an even worse mood. The classroom wasn’t sorrowful, but energetic. In that moment, Aliyah wondered if the death of their fellow classmate was real. As she walked up to her table, the sight of something in the room made her pause. 

Across from Aliyah’s chair was her chair. The chatter and murmurs of her classmates around her had phased out into muffled, indistinguible sounds. Her ears rang. This it it, Aliyah thought. This is when she was gonna cry and not feel numb anymore. She was gonna feel it. She waited and waited, but still nothing. No anguish, no anger, no guilt, and no exhaustion. Aliyah felt nothing. 

That was yesterday. Today was the same. Aliyah’s disposition of numbness remained the same. Whenever she talked about her with their classmates, Aliyah realized she was speaking in present tense. 

“What happened? She is not really dead is she?” Aliyah asked. 

“Yea-um-well-yeah, I think it’s true.”One classmate responded. They both shared the same table as her in their English class. 

“I-um…I don’t get it? She is so confident and nice….I guess I’m just surprised.” Aliyah said. She glanced at the empty chair. Her classmates nodded and shrugged. It was silent after that. No one knew what to say. 

DAY FOUR

It was Thursday, the fourth day since the news. Aliyah was home from school. No one was at home. When she went to her room, she noticed her journal peeking from underneath her pillow. She picked it up and flipped through it noticing how there were many blank pages. Even though it has been four days, Aliyah could not get her out of her mind. So she decided to write about her day and about her. 

Dear Journal, 

Today marks the fourth day since my classmate committed suicide. I didn’t know her well, but she sat across from me in our junior year English class. I knew her friend well. I didn’t even realize that we had a mutual friend, Alexis, in common. Alexis and I planned for her to pick me up and drive us to school this week since we were neighbors. She didn’t show up on Monday. On Tuesday, when she picked me up, she told me that she knew the girl who died. They were close. When Alexis found out what happened to her, she threw up. She couldn’t go to school that day. I didn’t know what to say. I, in shock, apologized and talked about what little I knew of her. I doubt what I had to say was comforting, but I tried anyway. I changed the subject because Alexis seemed to not want to talk about her. Then, during our drive to school, the song “How to Save a Life” by the Fray came on the radio. As the song played throughout the small car, for the first time this week, I wanted to cry, laugh, and scream. The music ended up being the cure to my numbness. I felt my eyes filling up with tears, and my chest caving in and breaking apart; my body forgot how to breathe as if air turned into water, and all I could feel was a sinking feeling as if a heavy weight was pulling me under. Then, the song ended and suddenly I was ok. No tears and my lungs began filling with air. The numbness came back, but now I was curious. I wanted to know more. The song left me with a hunger for knowledge about her death. I wondered to myself whether this hunger will ever be satisfied?

DAY FIVE

Aliyah was exhausted. It was Friday. Another hazy day despite the school counselors waiting around in the corner the whole period in case a student wanted to talk about her. But no one ever did. Everyone was still energetic - at a lower level than before her passing of course -- and no one wanted to acknowledge it. It was if a silent pact was made. To pretend her death wasn’t real. To pretend that it doesn’t matter even though it did. To pretend it was random even though it wasn’t. To never talk about her. 

Aliyah wanted to break the pact. She wanted to demand to know what happened. She wanted to scream that she was real and that it wasn’t random, but Aliyah was too tired. The numbness had acted like a disease -- sucking any energy she could muster up. She went home tired and slept the whole day away. She dreamt about her. That she is still alive. 

The next morning, Aliyah was hungry again. Not for food, but for information. The amount of questions she had that were unanswered had caused her to lie in bed all day. All she could do was think about her. What her voice sounds like. Her smile was like. Her laugh. Then Aliyah realized she didn’t know what her laugh sounded like. She never laughed. 

DAY EIGHT

It’s Monday. Yesterday, for the first time that week, Aliyah didn’t think about her. It was the closest to a normal day Aliyah had that whole week. It was almost as if no one had died, but today was Monday. It was time to go back to school. Whenever Aliyah thought about school, she always thought of her. 

Aliyah was picked up by Alexis again. During the drive, Aliyah had figured that since it has been a week Alexis might be open to talking about her. 

“So Alexis...” Aliyah started. She glanced at Alexis next to her.

“Hmm?” Alexis hummed. Her eyes focused on the road. Hands on the wheel making a turn to the right. 

“How have you been since your friend-umm-sinc-”Aliyah couldn’t say it. How have you been since she died? Her tongue had refused to cooperate and say that word. Died. 

“I’m ok now.” Alexis said softly. She turned to Aliyah and gave her a quick smile. Aliyah couldn’t figure out if she really was ok, but Alexis was honest and direct. If she wasn’t ok, she would say it. She wouldn’t hesitate, but this was different. This was a new territory that Aliyah didn’t know how to navigate. 

“Are you going to the funeral?” Alexis asked. Her eyes back on the road. 

“Funeral? There’s a funeral?” Aliyah said with a surprised tone. She hadn’t heard about a funeral. 

“Yeah. It’s this Wednesday.” Alexis said. 

“Um-I-I-uh….I don’t know if I should come. I didn’t know her well.” Aliyah responded. She has never been to a funeral. She wasn’t even sure if she would be allowed to. Her parents still didn’t know that she knew the girl who died. She didn’t even remember her last name. She couldn’t go. Right? She didn’t know her well. Did she even have the right to grieve her?

“Oh” Alexis shrugged with her eyes still on the road. “Yeah, um, I don’t know either.” Aliyah could tell she was uncomfortable. Maybe she still didn’t want to talk about it. 

Aliyah changed the subject. “I like this song. What’s it called?”

Just like that, the air in the car was lighter. 

------------

It was time for English class. Aliyah loved the class, but since last week, she has been dreading to go. She couldn’t stop staring at the empty seat across from her. Today was the same. Even though she tried looking elsewhere, as soon as Aliyah sat, her eyes were trailed back to the seat. Her seat. 

Aliyah thought of the first time she met her. Her pixie short, dyed black hair. Her baggy, grey graphic shirt. Aliyah didn’t remember what was on there. Her flowy cardigan. Her baggy pants. It was the first day of school. Aliyah was nervous. She was the only Muslim, hijab wearing girl in that class. It was also mostly white classmates, which made Aliyah feel even more nervous. Was she already going to be an outcast? Naturally, Aliyah felt nervous to pick a table in case no one wanted to sit near her. Then, she saw one of her friends by themselves. Aliyah smiled and sat next to her. While they were engaged in a small chat, she walked up a couple minutes later. 

“Hey, can I sit here?” She asked shyly. Her light eyes glancing at mine, seeking permission, but Aliyah felt as if she was also looking into her soul. 

Aliyah nodded and gave her a wide, friendly smile. Her friend, Maya, next to her, did the same. At first Aliyah was puzzled. What made her join a table with two minorities instead of the other tables filled with white students? Aliyah was impressed. No one has ever done that in this school. Normally, people had to be forced by teachers to let Aliyah join their table. This girl was different. Soon, another girl who knew her joined. Immediately, they all hit it off, but she was still shy. Aliyah was too nervous to try to get her to open up, but Aliyah always gave her a smile even though she struggled to talk to her. Everytime Aliyah would try to ask her questions besides about school, she would get insecure. Would the girl laugh at her? Think Aliyah was weird? Did she like that music or movie? Eventually, Aliyah decided to settle for a smile and friendly, short responses. She doubted they would have much in common anyways.

Aliyah looked at the empty chair in front of her. For the first time since she listened to the song, “How to Save a Life,” Aliyah didn’t feel numb. She felt angry. Angry at the world. Angry at herself. Why didn’t she talk to her? Why didn’t she do more? Why couldn’t she see it? She even thought about it a few times, so how could she not see it in her? Why didn’t she ask her to be friends? Why?

Aliyah glanced at the counselors in the corner of the room. They were observing her classmates. Maybe she should talk to them. Talk to someone. Anyone. 

DAY TEN

Today was the day of the funeral. Aliyah still didn’t talk to anyone. Yesterday, she had tried, but something stopped her. She was afraid, but she didn’t know why. She was tired of feeling angry. If she couldn’t talk to the school counselors, maybe she could talk to someone at home. She couldn’t talk to her parents. They wouldn’t understand. So, she decided to talk to her older brother. Even though her older brother was practically emotionally closed off, Aliyah decided she needed that. She didn’t want to talk about her feelings. She didn’t want to cry. She hadn’t cried yet and she doubted that she ever would. 

Aliyah knocked softly on her brother’s door. He didn’t answer. She knocked even louder. He still didn’t answer. She sighed and barged into the room with the door slamming harshly into the wall. She winced and her brother glared at her. 

“What do you want?” He asked. Aliyah shrugged and looked down at the floor. He sighed and gestured for her to come in and close the door. Aliyah sat on his desk chair. Her brother was sitting across from her on his bed. His laptop was shut off and forgotten. She had his full attention. She wasn’t used to that. 

“One of my classmates committed suicide last week. I-I knew her.” Aliyah said in a rush without taking a breath. There was a short pause. She could feel her brother staring at her, but she still couldn’t move her head up. She hadn’t said it at loud before. It was always “did you hear about what happened,” because everyone already knew. Aliyah felt the anger and numbness starting to fade away. It was the first step. 

“Wow. Are you ok? Do our parents know? Did you know her? Did you talk to anyone yet? What was her name?” He said. He moved closer and searched all over Aliyah’s face. As if he was looking for a sign on whether Aliyah was alright or was she breaking. Then, too late, he realized she was breaking. 

As soon as Aliyah opened her mouth, she felt it. Her chest was caving in, her lungs were begging for air, her head was throbbing, her stomach was twisting, her ears were ringing, and her eyes were blurry. She felt awful. Sadness. Grief. 

Aliyah let out a short cry with her hands reaching for her mouth, “T-t-t-od-d-day was-was-was..” Aliyah couldn’t breathe, but she had to say it. “Today…...Today was her fu--uneral. I didn’t g-g-go.” Immediately, her brother reached for her and pulled her into a hug. Aliyah quickly hugged him back and sobbed on his chest. She let out an even louder cry and her body shook almost as if she was convulsing from a seizure. After a while, when she could feel her lungs able to expand with air, did she finally say her name. 

“Her name was Ruby.” Aliyah whispered. Her brother hugged her even tighter. For the rest of the day, Aliyah talked about Ruby and her brother listened.