The Weight of Silence

Trigger Warnings: mentions of substance abuse and physical violence (alluding to gun violence).

The flickering fluorescent lights of the police station flashed like cameras in my eyes. The words on the TV burned into my retina with each flash.

Missing Teen from Tiny Creek found dead.

We had only seen Ash last week. They tried to talk to us, and we ran. I didn’t know that was going to be the last time I’d see them. I wish I had spoken to them before it was too late.

The door opened, and Detective Walters walked in. I had been at her mercy, answering questions about Ash—our friendship, why we stopped being friends, and their disappearance.

“So, when she disappeared-”

“They,” I interrupted. “They might be dead, but you can show them some respect.”

She blinked, “Right, sorry.”

Eventually, she looked me over, exhaling through her nose.

“You are free to go, Miss Barnett.”

The chair scraped against the concrete, and I left the room. I was ready to get out and call my friends. In the hallway, my parents were standing with Jackson and Lizzie’s parents, huddled together. Jackson’s mum was the first to notice me.

“Victoria,” the parents turned to me as Mrs Fields pulled me into her arms. My mum coming in behind her.

“Mum?” called a hoarse voice behind me.

Lizzie and Jackson appeared. I broke free from Mrs Field’s grasp and ran over to Lizzie. As I pulled her into my arms, Jackson fell into his mother's.

Jackson’s voice breaking, “They were my best friend.”

“I know, honey,” his mother replied.

“I want to go to the station,” Jackson announced. All the parents turned, and hesitant looks crossed their faces. “Please, mum, that’s where we spent time with Ash.”

Reluctantly, they agreed.

As we walked past the clerk at the desk, another officer leaned over.

“That letter we found is gone….”

Jackson shook his head before grabbing my arm and pulling me out of the station.

Rain streaked across the windshield in silver threads as Jackson drove. Lizzie sat beside him, staring straight ahead. I sat in the back as we made our way to the outskirts of town, leaving the sun behind us as we drove into the night.

As we travelled further into what once was Tiny Creek’s CBD, the harder the rain fell. Despite his high beams, the road ahead became difficult to see.

“Should we pull over?”

In the distance, a car became visible through the rain. Its hood was still bent around the tree as when we had left it.

The sight ripped me backward—

Freshly mowed grass. Wood smoke. Ash’s pleas.

“Don’t tell them...Jackson and Lizzie don’t need to know.”

I frowned. “You told me you gave it back.”

Their knuckles whitened on the steering wheel. “And I will, I just need it for a while.”

“For a while?” My voice rose. “That money was for the fundraiser, Ash. You stole from everyone.”

They didn’t look at me. “You don’t understand. I was going to get hurt”

It was the middle of summer; we had been at the beach, and they had refused to take off their shirt. They had been quiet for the last few weeks, something we had all thought was due to starting year twelve.

“You’re using again, aren’t you?”

Ash didn’t respond; they looked into the rearview mirror at Jackson and Lizzie driving behind us.

“Are you high right now?” I asked, stomach sinking. “Stop the car.”

“V, you’re being crazy, we’re almost at the station.”

“Ash, let me out. RIGHT NOW!” I yelled, reaching for the steering wheel.

Suddenly, my head screamed, struggling to register what I was looking at. Ash’s hood was wrapped around a tree.

“ASH! VICTORIA!”

Jackson’s voice echoed, breaking through the smoke. I remembered the smell — petrol, burnt plastic, wet earth. My body felt weightless as Jackson dragged me from the passenger seat. Lizzie stood frozen on the roadside, her face pale under the harsh beam of the headlights.

Ash was still in the car.

“Don’t.” I said, “Call Mrs Clark. Let her deal with her junkie kid.”

The memory shattered as a sudden bump rocked the car. I blinked, the summer air, the crash — all gone. I was back in the car, rain hammering the windshield, Jackson’s worried face in the rearview mirror. I swallowed the tightness in my throat. “No,” I said, voice shaking. “Keep going.”

Rain pattered against the rusted metal roof, like knuckles rapping in an impatient rhythm. The old train hadn’t changed; we had avoided it since the accident. The faded fabric seats where we had once sprawled upon for hours, talking about school, family drama, and our futures, waited for us like ghosts of our past selves.

Even after months of being left untouched, the scent of Ash’s favourite incense, Dragon’s Blood, still clung to the air. Sharp. Smoky. Familiar.

Like they had never left.

Jackson walked in first. Cranking the handle of the old generator. It took a moment for the dim, fairly lights we had strung up to flicker on, casting a faint glow. Lizzie hovered close to me, arms wrapped tightly around herself.

I walked further into the carriage, my steps echoing on the metal floor. As I turned around, something glistered in the corner of my eye. I turned back to look.

My breath hitched.

BANG

My phone hit the floor.

“You alright?” Jackson asked

“Guys… someone’s been here.”

Frantic footsteps echoed behind me, Jackson and Lizzie looking at what I had spotted.

At the back of the carriage, stuck into the vinyl wall by a knife, was a note.

Not taped.

Not wedged.

Pinned.

My name was written across the front.

V.

Only Ash ever called me that.

The blade holding it in place had rust lining the edge, like dried blood. Jackson reached up and pulled it free from the wall. The metal scraped against the vinyl with a slow, dragging sound that sent something cold crawling up my spine.

He held the note out toward me.

My fingers hovered over the paper. The handwriting was unmistakably theirs, sharp, slanted, frantic.

I unfolded it with shaking hands.

Ash’s handwriting bled across the page; ink smudged like it had been written in a hurry.

I tried to fix everything.

I never wanted you to get hurt.

The next sentence was jagged. Like they had pressed the pen too hard:

Someone was watching you.

A chill ran down my spine. The train suddenly felt too small, the shadows too crowded.

At the bottom of the page, a final line, smeared and uneven.

Don’t trust—

The sentence was cut off.

Lizzie’s breath hitched. “Don’t trust who?”

Before any of us could speak, the fairy lights flickered, once, twice, then snapped off, drowning us in darkness.

Something creaked deeper in the carriage.

Not the wind.

Not the rain.

Footsteps.

Slow. Deliberate.

Coming toward us.

“Who’s there?” Jackson yelled into the darkness.

Movement caught my eye; someone was walking towards us. My eyes struggled to adjust to the sudden darkness, but I could make out the unmistakable haircut.

“Ash?”

The person, Ash, froze for a second before sprinting out of the carriage. Without thinking, I found myself running after them into the woods outside.

With my phone still on the ground of the train, I had no light to guide my way. I stumbled blindly after Ash, following the sound of branches breaking and leaves crunching as they ran deeper into the woods. I followed, my foot a magnet to every root, reaching out of the group. I tripped; the earthy taste of dirt filled my mouth. I could hear Ash’s footsteps begin to slow up ahead.

“Victoria, come back!” Lizzie screamed from a distance.

I began to push myself off the ground, my palms being stabbed by twigs that had lost their grips on the trees above.

CLICK, CLICK

The sound of a gun being loaded quite close to my left.

“You should have heard me out, V," Ash said from in front of me. “This didn’t have to happen.”