Do Not Stand At My Grave And Weep
Troy got up from his chair in the church, his eyes tearstained with all the tears he spilled crying over the loss he suffered. He slowly walked up to the aisle, standing at the stand, looking over all the people in the audience, all here to pay their respects. He looked at his father, who nodded reassuringly, then at his mother who held a handkerchief in her hand, wiping away the tears she was crying. Onto Gabriella's mother, who was still crying, probably just as much as Troy himself.
Troy had lost the love of his life to some stupid accident, he wasn't ready to go on with his life without her, without Gabriella… He loved her more than his own life, and now she was gone. Being killed in a crossfire she landed in after being lost in the city she was visiting to go to some of her old friends. This wasn't meant to happen, Gabriella wasn't meant to be killed, but yet here they were, paying their respects to the girl that was so innocent in this. Everything was messed up. Troy was left behind with their three months old triplets, Abby, Beau, Jolene and their 4-year-old son Alex.
He looked at the chair his little boy was in, he was only four and had lost his mother to some stupid thing, the boy was innocent in all of this and yet it had happened. Then his head turned to the triplets, who were sleeping silently. They wouldn't even remember their mother, but he would make sure that they would. Their mother was an amazing woman, and he wouldn't let them forget her, never. Gabriella wasn't going to be forgotten, she would be remembered forever.
He watched Kelsi take her place beside Zeke, who wrapped his arm around his wife's shoulder, Sharpay was 5 months pregnant and was crying her eyes out. Gabriella wasn't supposed to die, leaving the rest of them behind with nothing but a memory. Gabi had been only 25 and there she was in the beautiful white coffin, loaded with flowers and stuffed animals, the ones Gabi had loved so much. Troy closed his eyes, trying to stop himself from bursting into tears again, he wouldn't cry in front of everyone, although he knew that everyone knew what he was going through.
He glanced out at the sea of faces that were all turned in his direction; some looking into space, some smiling at him, but most people were crying too much to notice that Troy had gotten to his feet at all. A couple of people, though, were looking at Troy was going to make a speech about his wife, Gabriella Bolton-Montez, and wanted to hear what he had to say. They wanted to hear what Troy could say about the love of his life, who he had lost so fast. They knew that Troy and Gabriella were meant to be, meant to be together for the rest of their lives, not for the 9 years they had shared, but for 60 years or even 70.
Troy looked at Taylor, now, her tiny hand folded into his best friends, Chad Danforth's bigger one; tears streaming down both of their faces. Taylor smiled at him, and nodded: go on, that nod said, do what you have to do. Even Chad gave him a smile, which he hadn't done since the huge fight they had weeks ago. Taylor had talked to both boys, trying to reason them, and even Gabriella had tried, but it hadn't worked, both boys were to stubborn to listen to their wives.
That was the thought that spurred his mouth into action; every person in the church turned their head at him, wanting to hear what he had to say now. There was a person that had always accepted him, treated him for the person who he was, treated him for the person he wanted to be, not who everyone else wanted him to be, the basketball star of East High School, but the person he was, Troy Bolton, a guy who loved playing basketball, but loved to sing as well. He took a single, deep breath, slipped a ragged piece of paper out of his pocket, unfolded it, and began to read.
"Do not stand at my grave and weep," He said, his voice betraying nothing; inside his heart was shattering into a million tiny pieces, "I am not there; I do not sleep."
Troy quickly looked up at the audience; many of them were sharing confused looks with their neighbours. They hadn't expected him to read a poem that was so known by everyone, on the funeral of his wife. But still, it was a beautiful poem and they wanted to hear the rest of it. They looked back at Troy, who sighed deeply. He looked at Chad, who had buried his head in his handkerchief, sobbing steadily. This (of all things!) began to crumble his resolve; he could feel a swelling in his chest that told him if he didn't get this over with soon, he was going to cry.
"I am a thousand winds that blow," He suddenly had the absurd need to laugh; he could almost imagine how much that line would have tickled Gabriella, "I am the diamond glints on snow."
He shouldn't have thought of Gabriella, not now. His eyes filled with tears as he realised he would never watch Gabriella laugh again; they would never have hysterics so violent that their laughing would shake the bed. They would never see their kids grow up together, he would watch it alone. Blinking rapidly, not wanting to wipe his eyes, he ploughed on.
"I am the sun on ripened grain," He could hear his voice shaking—he was sure everyone else could too. He looked up and saw that many people, who, before, had been perfectly fine were now crying silently, he glanced down at his paper again. I won't cry, he thought desperately, I won't cry! "I am the gentle autumn r-rain."
He closed his eyes and took another deep breath; rain reminded him of Gabriella, the times they had shared in their backyard, while it was raining so hard, that they couldn't even understand what the two of them were saying to each other, but yet they always understood each other. The rain where they had created Alex in. It reminded him of the first time they kissed, it had been in the rain, on one of their walks back from school to their house. Troy would always walk Gabi home, he hadn't missed one change to do so. How he had thought Gabriella tasted like the rain: pure and clean, but sweet, like flowers. It reminded him of being young. Why did I volunteer for this?
(I'm not strong enough for this.)
He looked at Taylor again, who had now buried her head in Chad's neck; Troy could hear her wails from where he stood. Chad had wrapped his arms around her, they were moulded together, her arms flung around his waist, just like they were meant to be. He wasn't going to get through this if she kept it up, he could already feel himself crumbling. He wasn't ready to say goodbye to Gabriella, not yet, he would never be ready.
"W-when you awake in the mornings h-hush," He swiped at his eyes angrily; they were betraying him, "I am the s-swift uplifting rush," He took another yet another deep breath, and closed his eyes so he could no longer see anyone around him. He didn't want to see anyone anymore, "of quiet birds in circled f-flight."
Troy risked looking around the church again; he couldn't see a dry eye. Even his own eyes had begun to weep, he could feel the hot tears rolling down his cheek. He found surprisingly that he didn't even care; he couldn't feel anything anymore, only pain. The only person in the world her had left, had gone. He took another deep breath and it was husky with tears; he let it out again and it turned into some sort of strangled sob.
"I am the soft st-stars that shine at n-night."
He was surprised he could even speak anymore; his body was shaking so violently with sobs that he was trying to hold in. He gripped the sides of the stand to keep him upright. Forgetting about his policy not to cry, he let his breaths gasp in and out of him. He couldn't seem to make them stop. He didn't want them to stop, he had every right to cry, his wife was dead, he would never see her again and he was left alone, age 25 with four kids to raise by himself. He would never find someone like Gabriella again, no body would ever be able to replace her, and he wouldn't let anybody try. Gabriella was the only one he could ever love this much, and she knew that.
"D-do not stand at my gr-grave and cry," He cried, doing just that, "I am not t-there…" He looked around the room for the last time, his gaze colliding with so many tear-filled eyes—so many people had had their hearts broken when Gabriella had died. A girl who would never be forgotten, who had taken a special place in their hearts when she had come to East High and had changed everything. He could see them now, clutching each other, face turned away, screwed up in pain; just as his own was—he could hear his sobs echoing around the entire room.
"I did not die."
A/N: I hope you liked the one-shot :) I know it worked for my best friend, who got tears in her eyes just reading it :) I saw the poem and just had to write this story. It's a rather known poem though, written by a woman called, Mary Elizabeth Frye. Reviews please :) Tell me if I should continue writing one-shots as well :) this is my first one... Because we need to, was supposed to be one, but turned into a complete story :) but this one won't.. unless u want a sequel, then I might consider :) but i'm not really good at sequels.. anyway, hope u enjoyed reading :) Love, Daphne aka PopPrincess ♥