Back to the angst. Briley angst. Oh dear.
I don't own NT, mmkay? Or the featured song, What Hurts the Most. Thanks.
-_X_-
What hurts the most
Was being so close
And having so much to say
And watching you walk away
And never knowing
What could've been
And not seeing that loving you
Is what I was trying to do
-_X_-
I look around, numbed by the sight of all the people here. There's a huge crowd. I assume most of them are only spectators, the people who heard of Ben a few times and decided they wanted to come. I angrily think to myself that they don't belong here, but there's nothing I can do about it. Not like I can kick them out or anything, they're here whether I want them or not. But I don't know if I can face them.
I look over at the others. There are dark circles under Abby's eyes; she hasn't slept in a while and she's spent her time awake crying. Patrick and Emily look the same; exhausted, their eyes glazed over with emotion and disbelief. No one believed it would ever happen. Not to him. It wasn't even his fault. So why should he be the one to die while his killer is alive? What's wrong with this picture?
It isn't fair. It's not fair. Why Ben? Why Ben? Of all people, why did it have to be him?
Of course I feel the regret. Of course I do. He died thinking I was angry with him. I let him walk away after getting into that fight. I wish I'd known. If I'd known this would happen, I wouldn't have let him. I would've made him stay, somehow. I'd switch places with him in a heartbeat. But there's nothing I can do now.
Nothing. Nothing I can do now. He's gone.
The words chill me to the core. I'm not crying. But I want to cry. I should be crying. This is Ben. My Ben. So why aren't I crying?
-_X_-
It's getting really late, and we're all exhausted. It's been a long day. I watch him kiss Abigail good night as she turns to head up to their room, my heart pounding with jealousy. Truth is, I want him to kiss me like that. But that's not going to happen, so I let him walk away, murmuring my goodnight to him as he smiles tiredly at me, and when he's gone, I fall back onto the couch, letting out a groan of frustration.
How can I keep going on like this?
-_X_-
The service begins, but I'm not paying any attention to what's being said. My eyes keep wandering to that big, dark wooden box in the front of the church, which keeps cruelly reminding me that he isn't coming back, and I can't fix it. A lump grows in my throat, but I'm still not crying. Everyone bows their heads in quiet prayer, and I try to follow along, though my heart isn't in it.
The service drudges on and the minutes feel like hours. When will it be over? I want to leave, I want to forget. I feel Abby's gaze on my face and I turn to her, forcing a tiny smile as if to say 'I'll be all right', even though we all know that would be a lie. I bite my tongue, staring at the man at the pulpit who's reading some Bible passage I've heard at every funeral I've ever been to. Saying something about how we'll all get a chance to go to Heaven when it's our time.
Was it really his time, though? I somehow can't stand to think that Ben was supposed to die so soon. It'd been barely three years I'd known him. He'd only just proposed to Abigail. She'd taken the ring unable to even look at it without bursting into hysterical sobs. I envy her, somehow. I can feel her pain. She lost the love of her life, and I lost the only person I'd ever love.
-_X_-
It was nearly midnight. I was sitting, awake, as always, thinking about the fight we'd been in earlier. It was about something stupid, my tired mind can't even remember the details. All I remember is Ben, livid, storming out of my apartment, slamming the door behind him. And I was glad he left.
And then the phone rang.
I answered it, my heart sinking as I listened to the caller. I can hardly hear him over the pounding of my heart, though a few words slip through.
Car crash… Drunk driver… Critical condition… Not likely to survive…Ben.
It doesn't make any sense to me, and I can't put it together. What did he mean, Ben was dying? How could that happen?
Next thing I knew, I was in my car, tearing down the highway at top speed, praying and cursing and wondering what the hell had happened.
I arrive at the hospital and I find Abby and Ben's parents sitting together, one of the women crying on each of Patrick's shoulders. I ask what happened, my mouth dry. I'm dizzy, I can't concentrate. No one answers me, even when I ask again. It's like a dream. And then the doctor comes out, telling me he's dead. Ben died on the way to the hospital.
Dead? Ben's… dead? How? Why?
I want to see him. I can't, I won't believe it unless I see for myself. The doctor, after I've yelled and shouted at him, reluctantly agrees. My stomach flips and I feel sick at the sight of the man I loved, lying there on the cot. Cold. Motionless.
Dead.
-_X_-
Was it only a week ago? It feels longer. I'd hoped it was a dream, but I woke up at Ben and Abby's to find Ben's bedroom empty, his car gone. But then I remember that the car was totaled and Ben was dead, and it made me sick. But I never cried. Not once.
Now it's my turn to speak. I need to say something about Ben. Abby wanted me to. I stand, looking at the sea of people, dressed in black, and bite hard on my tongue until I draw blood. I stand at the pulpit, clearing my throat as I slowly begin to speak.
"Ben Gates…" I begin, and then I freeze. My brain shuts down. I can't think, I can't do anything. The room sways, the words on the paper blur. "Ben Gates…" I try to start again, but it still doesn't work. My tongue can't form the words.
I realize that it's too late now. As if it's just hit me, I realize that he's gone. He's never coming back, and there's nothing that I can do about it. I step back from the pulpit, trying to breathe. Finding myself unable, I choke out an 'I'm sorry' and start down toward the door, the blood pounding in my ears. I hear a wail from the front of the church, vaguely recognizing it as Abigail's. But I'm already gone, and I step out the door into the falling ran.
My shaking hands fumble with the tie around my neck, undoing it. It falls to the ground, landing in a muddy puddle. I collapse onto the stairs in the front of the church, burying my face in my hands as the rain soaks through my best suit. But I'm still not crying. Not a tear.
The people file out after a while, leaving since they've said their final goodbyes. I feel their stares, but I ignore it and wait until almost everyone is gone before I get back to my feet, looking at the door. And suddenly, I feel indescribable anger well up inside me and I throw open the huge wooden doors.
I nearly sprint down the aisle in long strides, heading right toward the huge box in front of me. I'm right there, finally, and my hands slam down hard on the smooth, polished wood; I'm nearly shaking with fury.
"Dammit, Ben!" I nearly scream. "Dammit!" I'm angry at him now. I can't help myself. It's selfish and stupid and unfair, but I'm angry with him. "How could you do this?! You just had to go and storm out on me and now look at what you've done! It's not fair! For any of us! Did you want this to happen?! Did you want…?" And as soon as the rage came, it's gone completely and I fall to my knees in front of the coffin.
-_X_-
"Do you ever honestly think about the future? Do you think about what's going to happen to you later? What do you want to see?"
-_X_-
It was one of the last things Ben had ever said to me when we weren't fighting. We'd been doing that a lot. But we got into that conversation, and when he'd asked, I'd had no answer for it because I'd never honestly thought about it that much. I never thought about the future, but now the future I'd wanted was unbelievably, unbearably, painfully clear to me.
But it was much too late for that.
"I wanted you," I whispered numbly, resting my head against the edge of the wooden box. "I wanted my future to be with you."
And for the first time, I finally started to cry.