The Perfection Paradox (28 page)

She'd lost
Hunter, she was going to an embarrassingly terrible
college next year where she'd be surrounded by idiots, and she'd
inevitably have to put up listening to how amazing Hunter's life
was as he inched towards a union with Kennedy, how Kennedy had
graduated from Harvard two years early or something ridiculous and
then gone on to become president of the world.

She hated
them both so much. She had to get away. She was desperate for this
pain to stop. She just wanted to go somewhere she'd never see
either of them again, where she'd never have to hear the
name
Kennedy
ever
again. 

There was
nothing else to do. Life kept pushing her down, submerging her in
icy water, she could only struggle against its monumental strength
for so long before just giving up, letting life take what it wanted
from her. She knew now that she would never be happy, she would
never be normal or stable. She would live like this constantly,
swinging from fantastic happiness to unbearable misery.

She was tired
of it, tired of her mind controlling her like a light switching on
and off and she was powerless, always. She just got caught up in
the frenzy, as someone else pulled the strings of her brain, as
something else possessed her.

She was
always just left to pick up the pieces.

No one
understood, and people were getting bored of her depression. Her
mother, her friends, Hunter, they were all distancing themselves
from her, they were all edging away from her like she was diseased
instead of trying to help her, trying to cure this hollowness
inside her.

She would do
it now. She would do it to spite them all.

34.

It was three
days after graduation. The sky was blue and cloudless. Birds were
singing. The smell of freshly cut grass wafted through
the neighbourhood lazily. 

The gates in
front of Rosewell High School had become an unofficial shrine to
her. Hundreds of bouquets of flowers hid the neat brick pavement
from view.

Candles had
been lit, stuffed toy animals left there for her. Photographs of
her had been printed out and placed amongst the trinkets, messages
of support to her family and messages of love to her, the
magnificent dead.

The sun bore
down relentlessly on the school's stadium, which was filling up
with crowds of students and their families, teachers and
neighbours, anyone who had known her.

The memorial
service wasn't beginning for another ten minutes but the stadium
was already full.

Principal
Andrews was adjusting a microphone stand in the centre of the
sports field, while her family and closest friends were being shown
to their seats just behind the small stage the principal was
standing on. 

The whole
crowd was a sea of black clothes and wan faces, despite the
sunshine glaring down on them. Many clutched mottled tissues
or handkerchiefs tightly in their hands, their noses running, their
eyes bloodshot and sore.

An air of
defeat swept about Rosewell stadium that afternoon, a feeling of
hopelessness, like nothing would ever be right again.

What had
happened? Had they let her down? Should they have been
there?

The rumours
had started to circulate as soon as news of her death was
announced. Many of them felt guilty, guilty for missing the signs,
guilty for not having done more.

They
should’ve done more.

They
should’ve done more
.

Even now it
was plain to see on all their faces.

What could I
have done? Could I have made a difference?

What would it
have taken? What would’ve had to be said or done to erase this
day?

What would’ve
been enough to stop it from ever happening?

It tore them
all up inside.

Principal
Andrews finally took his place behind the microphone and commenced
the service.

"Good
afternoon” the blunt volume of his voice cut through the
melancholic atmosphere like a knife. It felt uneasy, out of
place.

The crowd
stirred uncomfortably.

“
It is with
great sadness and a heavy heart that I must today hold this
service”

He sounded
almost robotic, like he’d disengaged himself from the cause of his
speech in an effort to ensure he got through it.

“
Rosewell has
lost an exceptionally talented, hard-working and beautiful student
who played an instrumental and central role in this community for
four years.”

He took a
shaky breath, like a man looming on the edge of a cliff, leaning
forward slowly, knowing that after that last deep breath there was
no going back.

“
As the
principal of Rosewell High School, I knew Kennedy Blakewood as
someone full of life and happiness, full of wit, charm, and every
likeable quality you could ever find in an individual.”

He managed to
pace himself, managed to say the words, although that hint of
detachment remained, like he was reading one word at a time so the
gravity of the sentences meaning could not hit him.

“
She was a
sensational student, achieving a near perfect score of 2380 on her
SATs, which resulted in offers from Harvard, Yale, Princeton and
Oxford University to name but a few. Kennedy's extracurricular
activities are too numerous to list, but among other achievements
she was the winner of a national essay contest which resulted in
her flying to Washington DC to meet the president, as well as
leading her volleyball team to victory at the state championship
twice. She was phenomenal athlete, six-time captain of the
volleyball, cheerleading, track and girls soccer teams, elected by
her teammates. She also organized and hosted a fashion show, which
raised over $30,000 for charity.”

His voice
fell silent abruptly. He pushed his shoulders back defiantly,
determined to go on. “Her popularity amongst her classmates was
also undeniable. Kennedy was voted Homecoming Queen, Junior and
Senior Prom Queen, as well as "most likely to succeed" and "most
beautiful". All together, Kennedy Blakewood was an exceptional girl
and a fantastic role model to girls at this school. The death of
Kennedy Blakewood is a terrible loss not only to this school, its
students and teachers, but also to the people who's lives Kennedy
would have inevitably enhanced in the years to come. Rosewell High
School has lost a shining star. To recognize Kennedy and her
achievements the school will be building a monument in her memory.
Our thoughts are with her family and friends at this difficult
time. Next we will hear from Kennedy's brother, Nicholas
Blakewood." 

The crowd
murmured as the principal's speech drew to a close. Many people had
their heads bowed over in secluded sorrow.

Nicholas
stood up and approached the microphone.

Where
Principal Andrews had been calculated and professional, Nicholas
was broken and flailing, like a worm frying on a hot
pavement.

His face
looked pale and expressionless. As he unfolded a piece of paper
from his suit pocket, his face scrunched up in emotional agony. He
turned around, attempting to gather himself.

The crowd
stirred. Slowly, applause spread through the audience of mourners.
Encouraging Nicholas, telling him they were there and they cared
for him.

Finally he
turned around and took a deep quivering breath. The crowd fell
silent instantly.

"Firstly,
thank you to everyone for coming. It means so much to my family and
I to know how loved Kennedy was, and how much she will be
missed."

He looked up
and out into the audience, taking in the forlorn faces of those who
had gathered to remember his sister.

"Kennedy was
my baby sister. My brothers and I loved her more than anything in
the world. She was our little angel. Like Principal Andrews already
said, Kennedy was blessed with intelligence, magnetism and beauty,
to the point where it can never be fully expressed in
words”

He glanced
down at his hands, seemingly forgetting the crowds that stood
around him. The moment seemed to stretch out for hours. He sighed
into the microphone, his breath shuddering unevenly, a shaky
staccato.

“
When someone
dies, your perspective on life and death changes. When someone
you
love
dies,
your perspective on everything changes. You think back to the
moments that at the time seemed the least significant, but in
retrospect are the
most
significant.”

He wrung his
hands, still not able to look up from them.

“
Talking over
breakfast every morning before school, her face when she smiled,
the sound of her laugh, the warmth of her hug every time I came
home from college, the affection in her “hello”. These are the
things I will miss the most about my sister. I will miss saying she
is instead of she was. We all miss you so much already, we keep
listening to the voicemail message you left on my phone on
graduation day, you sound so happy… We don’t understand. I wish you
could come back and help us understand why, tell us what we
could’ve done.

When I think
of Kennedy I will always be filled with warmth and happiness,
because that is what she always brought me, wise beyond her years,
she was a constant source of kindness and reassurance to our family
and all who knew her. I looked forward to her joining me at Harvard
next year, I looked forward to watching her succeed in life, to
watching her walk down the aisle to someone as brilliant as her, to
watching her begin a family, to being an uncle to her children. I
have been honoured to spend so much time with her, honoured to have
had her as a sister. She was too good for this world. Too pure and
kind”

Finally, he
forced his eyes up. He looked at the distraught faces around him.
From one to the other, a hint of bewilderment on his taut handsome
face, a whisper of the horrifying epiphany that this was real and
he was here, to say goodbye to his sister, his Kennedy.

His gaze
turned skywards.

“
Kennedy, I
love you and I miss you, and I will think of you every day for the
rest of my life." Nicholas's voice cracked and a tear rolled down
his cheek.

As Nicholas
finished reading, muffled cries were audible throughout the
audience. He fell to his knees, sobbing.

His brothers
rushed to the stage and helped him up, supporting him down the
steps back to his seat.

The crowd was
applauding loudly, a solid booming clap as sorrowful as the faces
of the Blakewood family.

It was all
they could do to show Kennedy's family how much they cared, how
much they felt their pain. 

Principal
Andrews returned to the microphone "Lastly, we will have a speech
from Brooke Kent." he said, his voice rocky with
emotion.

Brooke stood
up from her seat next to Kennedy's mother and approached the
microphone stand.

Her face,
which was usually vivacious and personable, was now pallid and
vacant.

Her voice
trembled as she spoke.

"Kennedy has
been my best friend since the day we met, four years ago, at a
cheerleading try-out, two nervous freshmen. I had looked forward to
being a part of many significant events in Kennedy's life, her
wedding, the birth of her children, but I never anticipated being a
part of a memorial service for her”

Her voice had
already started to crack and break, but as a veil of despair fell
across her face she shook it off, stubborn and determined, for
Kennedy.

“
Principal
Andrews and Nick have expressed so many of the qualities and
achievements that made Kennedy special. For me, Kennedy's
intelligence and diligence are what made me respect her,
but it was her compassion, empathy and big heart that made me love
her like a sister”

A
pause.

“
Nothing was
ever too much effort, and I have so many wonderful memories that
demonstrate Kennedy's selflessness. She sacrificed hours of her own
valuable study time to help me prepare for my SATs because she knew
how worried I was. Whenever I was sad she'd surprise me with
something and make sure I knew how much she cared about
me”

She took a
deep breath.

“
She was my
moral compass, my role model, my most trusted friend, and the only
person I could be myself with, expose my flaws to, knowing she
would always accept them.”

A
heart-breaking smile crossed her face, only for an instant, as she
remembered.

“
Without
Kennedy in my life I wouldn't be the person I am today, I wouldn't
be going to college in Massachusetts, where I was supposed to be
headed with Kennedy when she got into Harvard. She is the single
best influence in my life, she has turned every bad quality I ever
had into a good quality and she has shown me time and time again
what is important. Loyalty, kindness, hard work and
sincerity
”

She mirrored
Nicholas, turning her eyes to the endless blue skies above her, to
the heavens where her best friend was watching her.