Ch. 4

"We are gathered here today. . ."

Him bumping into her in the hallway, 'Sorry. I don't think we've met. My name's Jason.'

". . .to celebrate a promising, young life. . ."

Him holding her hand at the basketball game, looking deeply into her eyes.

". . .cut short in the bloom of his youth. . .

Him kissing her on her couch when her mom was gone.

". . .a tragedy to all. . ."

Him laughing with her on his rooftop, showing her his scars underneath the surface.

". . .our thoughts go out to the family, and our grievances likewise."

His messages on the phone, the fact that she had not picked up.

***

The funeral was shorter than she expected. Sitting in her chair, tears rolling down her cheeks, she couldn't even make up her mind on whether or not to go up. The coffin's lid closed with a definite slam, and that's when it hit her. She wold never see him again. Never hear his soft voice, never feel his arms around her again, never kiss his warm lips, which would by now be cold. Tears poured down her face, making it hard to drive, and harder to pay attention to the road, which was a problem. Slamming on the brakes, her head thumping back, she saw the driver get out of the front of the car she had just hit and start walking towards her. Rachel sighed, wiping her eyes, and reaching for her wallet.

***

Throwing her keys down on the kitchen table, Rachel sank to the ground. Unable to continue. She was so tired of going it alone. She couldn't face her parents and say that she needed to fix the car because she ran into someone. She couldn't face her stepdad's wrath again.

Without him, who would tell her she was beautiful on her worst days?

Without him, who would look at the scars on her wrists and kiss her silly?

Without him, who would help her get through the tough days?

Without him, how could she go on?