Nothing We Could Do (Mark)

Go away, sirens. My friend's getting married tomorrow. Give him and all of us a rest, thank you very much. No, seriously. Stop. It's getting annoying and he can barely sleep as it is. He has anxiety already, so shoo! Scat! They're not going anywhere, it seems. Against my better judgment, I decided to investigate.
         "Sir, please return to your room." A woman with a well-done braided bun stopped me. Things must have been bad if I couldn't leave. What the heck was going on? It's like someone was murdered or like someone suspicious was roaming the building. Not wanting to make the woman's job harder, I slipped back into my room and turned on the TV. Steve was asleep, so I lowered the volume. I flipped through the channels, none of which interested me. I ended up watching the news.

A young woman recently jumped from a building. There was no note, no warning at all. The woman in question was in her early twenties about 4'11" with very pale skin. Could that woman have been Caitlin? She fit the description well enough. I watched on. The reporter said something about prohibiting guests from leaving their rooms so that they don't start riots or do things along those lines. Huh. That sounds a lot like...wait a second. Isn't that our hotel in the shot? And didn't she jump from the top floor?

The newscasters said they would reveal the woman's identity after the commercial break and telling us what the latest fashion trends were, so I decided to make some coffee. I chose my usual French roast and let it percolate. The hotel water smelled faintly of zombie flesh, but it was nothing that can't be fixed by adding roasted beans. However, all the world's finest coffees couldn't replace someone like Caitlin. Some people spend all their lives trying to be kind, beautiful or intelligent. Caitlin had all three of those traits. I remembered how Landon used to treat her terribly and, instead of retaliating with the same, she got to know him. That takes some level of character that I certainly do not have.

Not only that, I saw her influence on Steve. He used to be downright insufferable at times, but he did have talent, so I couldn't really say anything. However, with Caitlin's assistance, he became one of the sweetest people I know. Even with everything he's faced in the past year, he still managed to lead with the right balance of confidence and humility. His band sounds better sight reading than most bands do on the day of their concert. Of course, not every member is flawless, but his band definitely has something that other bands don't.

A familiar smell told me that the coffee was done. Not being sure of what Steve liked in his coffee, I did not add anything to his cup. I added cream and cinnamon to mine since I'm not really one for the cloying taste of pure sugar. The smell of coffee must have roused him. He made his way to the shower as the newscaster droned on and on about how men should wear chokers. It then hit me that Steve liked sugar and cream in his coffee--and lots of it.

As soon as Steve came out of the bathroom with wet hair, he sat down next to me. I didn't have the heart to tell him about the woman because I had a pretty good idea of who she was. However, that woman could have been Yasuke Inomoto or Fumiko Hiyashida. After another lecture on flattering eyeshadow colors, the newscasters were back to tell us the woman's identity.
         "The woman has been identified as Caitlin Netherfield." At those words, my heart practically dropped out of my chest. Upon hearing that name, Steve came rushing to my side, obviously greatly concerned. He typed frantically, asking if she was okay. I wanted to be able to say that she was, but it was better that I just said it.

         "She jumped and she's dead."

I waited for the tears to come. I waited for the denial, for Steve to say something. Instead, his knees buckled and he fainted. Luckily, I caught him and my first aid training came back. I laid him down flat on his back and tried to shake him awake. He stirred, got up, and sat on the couch shaking as he lowered himself. Seeing that neither of us have eaten, I asked Steve if he was hungry. He shook his head. I ordered room service for myself and I got an overpriced fruit plate just in case he changed his mind.

To be honest, I didn't really feel like eating either. I picked at my eggs. They were the most deliciously fluffy eggs I've ever had, but I couldn't bring myself to eat at the moment. Despite that, I prompted Steve to take a bite of fruit. He did so obligingly, later saying that it tasted like water.

"She died in the hospital after three hours, even on life support. " The camera showed a doctor in scrubs. "Her lungs filled with fluid so quickly there was nothing we could do."

There was nothing we could do. Had I known Caitlin's plans, I would have tried to talk her out of it. I don't know what is up with Mindcrack and the suicide epidemic there, but something told me that this had nothing to do with it. Would someone have been able to save her? I saw Alex begging her not to jump. She ran inside in tears when it happened. Speaking of Alex, she appeared on camera.
         "I was there! I saw her fall and everything." Tears fell from her eyes. "I was telling her to stay up there and wait for me to get help, but I don't think she heard me over the noise in her head." It'a hard enough for a student to lose a teacher, as I have learned in the past, but losing a favorite teacher to a sudden, violent, and unexpected death? At such a young age, I might add? I couldn't imagine what Alex felt. More than that, Caitlin was like an older sister to her. Alex walked out of one of her lessons saying "See you later, onee-san!".

Not only did Alex lose a teacher, she lost someone that she considered family. As much as I try to promote the idea of a band family, none of them really considered me that way. Alex and Caitlin obviously had something that ran deeper than a student-teacher relationship, but I didn't know they were practically sisters.

Steve wrapped his arms around me as if begging for comfort. I sat there stroking his hair, which I think benefitted from the hotel's good shampoo. He cried into my shirt and didn't stop to breathe for a good minute. I wondered how many others were grieving the loss of a beautiful, kind, and intelligent woman. I wished someone could have saved her life so she could have been married tomorrow. Maybe Steve and I could have done it if we knew she were up there.

Or was there nothing we could do?