Author's note: Hey guys, here's a new fic about Julie dealing with Marissa's death 1 day, 1 month, and then 1 year after the accident. Hope you enjoy! I Heart Kid Chino.
Life after Death
1 Day
None of this can be real. The phone call, the trip to the hospital, seeing her lying there lifeless, the blue and red flashing lights blending into the stark white of the hospital, before fading to black. Those final moments with the daughter I never deserved are all I can think about as I lay here in the comforting endlessness of the darkness in my bedroom. Neil woke long ago, persuading me to get up and out of bed. Hearing no response, he sighed before leaving for work. I know I'm losing him. But I don't think I even care. All I care about is laying here, remembering all of the horrible things I did to her. Her. It will take a while before I can say her name again. And don't bother asking me when I'll ever get out of bed. Instead, ask me IF I'll ever get out of bed. Then again, why would anyone ask me when they already know the answer?
1 Month
I suppose things are slowly getting better. Slowly being the operative word. Yesterday was the funeral. I almost didn't go... every time I thought about being there and seeing her cold and lifeless body once more I would cry hysterically. I made it through though. Partly because of Kirsten. She held my hand throughout the ceremony and comforted me afterwards. I've learnt that guilt is a bitch. Every time I look across the hall into her room, the guilt that is usually hidden seeps inside of me and makes me wonder whether living is worth it anymore, and whether I even deserve life. The guilt also washes over me whenever I look at Ryan. He just looks broken and somewhat empty. It's like his body is there, but his soul is elsewhere. It took me this long to realise that he loved Marissa as much as me... if not more.
I've also been seeing a therapist, as requested by Neil. Sarah Jacobson. She's helped me through a lot since the accident. She's given me whole bunch of pills to 'combat my depression', and they provide a temporary fix, but sometimes in the middle of the night, once they've worn off, I'm overcome by grief again and I'll cry for hours, until I can take more pills. At the moment it feels like my life revolves around the pills, and when I can take them. However, she's always going on and on about this "five stages of grief" crap. I don't believe it's real. All I've felt is empty. There's a deep, unexplainable void that will never be entirely filled. Eventually, a bandaid solution will ensue. However it's a bandaid for a bullet wound.
For the first time in a month, today I woke up before 12:00pm.
1 Year
It's been a year today since the accident. I've learnt a lot in a year. I've learnt that you can look back on old memories without feeling pain. I've learnt that life is short, and that sometimes the people who least deserve to die are the ones who go first. Most of all I've learnt to say Marissa. Marissa... that was her name. I can now bring myself to say it.
Yesterday I talked to Ryan. Mostly, we just went over old memories. He told me about all the things I never knew about Marissa that she opened up to him. I learned how much he loved her, and how unfairly I judged him. I apologised, and he accepted, and I felt whole again for a second. Only for a second. Then the feeling disappeared.
Now when I see her photo sitting on my dresser I smile. Because of Marissa, I'm a better person, I live life to the fullest, and surprisingly, life goes on after death.
Thanks for reading, guys. Please review!
