4. For the last time
A few days later we had a memorial and burial for him, when we hot most of the village to turn up. He was the first person in eight weeks who had been buried after a death and not just memorialised. After a while everyone else went back to their dily jobs and in the end it was just mother, Dorothy, granny and I left.
"How!" I exclaimed.
"I know but listen Arnold dear, he is in a good, holy place now. He is where he would have wanted to be." answered mother trying to make things better.
"No" I shrieked. "I . . . I . . . I. This isn't what he wanted."
"And how do you know?" replied Dorothy, my elder sister of my deprived family. "You weren't there, neither of you were, stop acting like you know everything, 'cause you don't."
"It's alright Dorothy dear. We are all finding these passed incidents just a little upsetting."
"A little upsetting?" I repeated. "A little upsetting. Do you call, living a life of total misery, being hunted by your best friend, and having you mother and father die at such a young age just a little upsetting. Do you call having nobody to celebrate your birthday or Christmas with because you rbest friend has become your worst enemy just a little upsetting." I stormed out of the building and never saw my family again.
(A few days later, The Pickery Family was informed by the local police that Arnold's body had been found at the bottom of a steep quarry with the only evidence leading to a suicide attempt.)