A/N All Twilight characters belong to Stephenie Meyer
I know..your probably checking you email and seeing CH 2 has been posted...yipee...here's why..I'm a total insomniac...I sleep for like 8 hours then stay up for like 48...it gives me LOTS of time to write..lol...so hopefully you enjoy this chapter...
CPOV
Normally the rain makes me happy, so it's been a blessing living in the rainiest place in the country. Today it was just depressing; the rain wasn't even rain, it was a fine mist that frizzed your hair and moistened your clothes to the point just before uncomfortable; where they're not soaked, but if you walk out into the cold you immediately start to freeze.
I awoke this morning in my bed, in my room with the pale orange walls and the white and orange polka dot curtains. The scuffed wood floor that my dad always promised he'd refinish, "some day."
Pictures of my friends hung, taped to the wall, in strange little groups. A poster of my favorite band, Framing Hanley, hung on the wall above my desk. Dad used to make fun of me for not being like "normal" girls with their posters of the Jonas Brothers and the dorks from the High School Musical movies. I used to tell him that being a "normal" girl sucked, and I liked who I was just fine. He would smile and say that he liked who I was just fine too.
I sobbed and buried my face into my pillow. I still couldn't stomach the fact that I'd never see them again; would never hear Dad call me his "goober" or Mom promise to take me shopping for books or CDs, even if she hated what I read and listened to.
There was a soft knock at the door, my other brother, Anthony, poked his head in, "Carls, you awake?"
"No, go away," I said, my face still buried into the pillow.
"Carls I can't hear you," Tony said softly.
I looked up at him, eyes rimmed red from crying, "Yes, Tony, I'm awake."
Tony pushed the door open further, "You okay?" he asked, his eyes red from crying too.
I shook my head no and hugged my pillow to my chest. Tony came in and sat on the edge of the bed, he bent and pulled Corduroy, a scruffy gray bear I'd had since I was a child, out from under the bed.
"Think he misses you," Tony said setting the bear next to me.
"Think I miss them, why Tony, why did this have to happen to us?"
Tony sighed, "I don't know kiddo; I really don't. I just know it did and we have to deal with it."
"I don't want to deal with it. I want to go back to bed until it all goes away. Until I wake up and Mom and Dad are alive and healthy." Tears slid down my face, two rivers of hot, salty pain.
Tony wrapped his arm around me, "It's not going to go away. As much as you want it to, its not, I'm sorry."
"It's not fair," I mumbled.
Tony patted my back, "I know its not. It's just the way it is."
"Yea, that's what everybody keeps saying," I said sarcastically.
Tony stood; "It's life, Carls. You either overcome, or become. And right now, you have to get overcome. The funeral's in two hours, and Masen will get his tighty whities in an atomic wedgie if we're not ready when its time to go."
I snorted, I couldn't help it, I might be dying inside, but like they; whoever 'they' are I have no idea, but they seem to know best; say laughter is the best medicine. It worked for a few seconds, and then the heaviness returned. The dress I was going to wear was hanging on the closet door. I stared at it, wrapped in its plastic dry cleaners bag, I felt sad, and strangely, not sad.
Mom had suffered through chemo and radiation and later a double mastectomy; death was a relief for her, finally a release from all the suffering she'd endured. And my father, his dying was bittersweet; the fact that he loved my mom as much as he did that it literally killed him to be away from her; it made me long for that kind of love.
I slid the dress over my head and dug around in the back of the closet for a pair of shoes that weren't sneakers or flip flops. Groaning, I stood up and slammed the closet door, empty handed. I'd have to wear a pair of my moms.
I slowly opened my bedroom door and peeked into the hallway. Positive Masen wasn't lurking around the corner. I slipped into the hall and tiptoed to my parent's door.
Masen had shut it after the ambulance came to take my dad; he said we didn't need a constant reminder of their absence. In my opinion the closed door was more final than the funeral.
Their door had never been shut in life, and it being closed now said they were really never coming back. I opened the door and slipped inside, quietly shutting the door behind me.
Everything was still as it was when Mom died. The bed, with its baby blue and tan quilt, was half made; the side Dad slept on was smooth whereas on Mom's side, the edge of the quilt was tossed back. Her rocking chair still sat in the corner, a hardback book sat on the seat. I ran my fingers over the weathered embossed title. I picked it up; it was her favorite book, Wuthering Heights, the copy that Dad gave her for her twentieth birthday, the one with the inscription in Italian.
I set the book back down and tip toed to the closet. I knew there was a pair of heels in here somewhere. Mom wasn't a huge fan of dressing up, but she kept one good pair of shoes for special occasions. Dad made her buy a pair once.
It had been their anniversary, their twentieth, I think, and Mom had gotten all dressed up and had no shoes to wear. She wore a pair of rain boots into a store halfway to Seattle so she could buy a pair of heels to go with her dress.
The memory brought a smile to my face, even though I wasn't old enough to remember it. I just remember the story. I found the shoes in a box in the back of the closet. I opened it and gazed at them, at least some small part of her would be with me today. I picked up the box and closed the closet, then made my way back to my room.
I slipped back into my room and shut the door. Setting the shoe box on the floor I slid the top off and pulled the tissue paper to the side. The sight of the shoes made me want to cry, I know I sound like a total cry baby, after all they were only shoes, but the simple fact was they were my moms shoes.
Masen knocked at the door, I slid my feet unceremoniously into the shoes and gently kicked the box under the bed. "Come in," I called.
The door opened slowly and Masen poked his head in, "Oh good," he said, relief flooding his features, "You're dressed. Its time to go, the car is waiting."
I followed him down the stairs; Tony was waiting in the foyer, a travel pack of tissues sticking out of the pocket of his jacket. He opened the closet door and pulled my neon orange parka out of the closet.
Beside me Masen groaned, "It's the only one I have," I muttered, "so shut up."
Tony held the coat out and I slid my arms into, "There you are Princess Pumpkin," he said as I zipped my coat. I giggled softly. "Thank you."
Masen opened the door and cleared his throat impatiently. "Chill out," I mumbled.
"Yea it's not like there getting any older," Tony muttered. Masen grimaced, "I heard that," he said stiffly.
The three of us picked out way down the icy walk and got into the waiting limo. It was ostentatious, to say the least, to show up at a funeral; well it was more of a memorial service I supposed, both Mom and Dad had been cremated; in a limo.
Masen got in last and blew into his hands, "It's so cold," he muttered.
"Yea Masen, it gets like that here," I mumbled sarcastically.
I stared out the window as the limo pulled away from the curb. The house slowly disappeared around the corner. I sighed. "Are we done yet?" I muttered.
Both Tony and Masen threw me dirty looks. "What?" I asked.
"Carly, I know this is hard, but come on; you're not the only one who is hurting here."
"Whatever Masen, as soon as this is over you're gonna run back to Jacksonville as fast as you can. And you Tony, you'll run back to your supermodel girlfriend back in L.A. so screw the both of you."
The limo pulled up in front of the church. There were a few people heading inside, I hoped out of the limo as soon as the limo slowed down enough to do so, and rushed up the sidewalk. I hadn't felt this confused in I don't know how long. There were a thousand different emotions pulling me in a million different directions. I was mad as hell for starters, and sad and hurt and lonely and abandoned. And knowing that my brothers were gonna leave Forks faster than the summer leaves in fall didn't help the confusion.
Tony rushed into the church and grabbed my arm, "Carls, don't do that again, the damn sidewalks are all icy, you could've fallen and broken and arm or something."
"I'm fine Tony. Let's go." I snatched my arm out of his grasp and walked into the sanctuary. It was packed, every pew was crammed full of people. I sighed and made my way to the front of the church.
I sat down and stared and the pictures of my parents lined up on the alter. It was like a photographic time line of their life together, the photos closest to me where from when they were younger; many of the shots were candid, as if they had no idea their picture was being taken, then as you went down the line they got older, my mom got sicker, you could see it in her eyes at first, the worry and panic; it etched deep lines around her chocolate eyes.
The last picture was from two days before she died, I went in with my camera and snapped a picture of the two of them asleep. My dad was curled around my mom, his arm gently rested on her waist. She was burrowed, almost, against his chest, like she was taking shelter during a storm. Seeing it now brought tears to my eyes, beside me Tony handed me the pack of tissues I noticed in his pocket earlier.
"Figured one of us would need them," he said out of the corner of his mouth. He glanced up, over my shoulder, "Did you invite your friends from school?"
I blew my nose, "Huh? No, why?" I turned and glanced in the same direction he was looking. The bronze haired boy, Edward, I corrected myself, was walking down the aisle by the wall. "What's he doing here?" I wondered aloud.
"You know him?" Tony asked staring at me in surprise, "He doesn't seem your type Carls."
"Shut up you tool. He, well his family, knew Mom." I glanced at Edward as he sat down. "And I don't have a type. Guys are my type."
"Don't say that too loudly, makes you sound easy," Tony joked. My face flushed bright red, "That's not what I meant," I hissed. He smiled, "I know, its just fun to watch you turn bright red."
God love Tony, I don't know what I would have ever done without him growing up. He was the comic relief, always ready with a joke or sarcastic word when it was most needed. Even now, he was able to make a joke and solicit a laugh.
The minister or whatever he was, we weren't a church going family, if anyone other than Masen had planned this we would either be holding it in the garage at home or the library; maybe even the beach. Those were the places that my parents worshipped not some musty old church.
I tried to focus on the nice things the minister was saying, but my attention kept going to the picture time line in front of me.
Each smile was like a knife, cutting me deeper, arms snaked around me, Emily's arms. "Its okay sweetheart," she said softly rubbing my back. I had no idea she'd even sat down next to me.
I looked up at her, "Thank you," I mumbled and laid my head back on her shoulder and watched as my brother got up to deliver the eulogy.
After the service, we filed out of the church and rode quietly back to our house. I glanced out the back window at all the cars that followed. This was going to be excruciating, all these people getting all in my face and hugging me, telling me how sorry they were. The woods were looking better and better the closer we got to home.
The limo stopped in front of our two story white clapboard house with the crooked shutter on the living room window. I got out and waited for my brothers. Masen lead the way up the walk and unlocked the door. I slipped past him and bolted up the stairs, "Carly!" he yelled.
Once I rounded the corner; and was sure he couldn't see me, I shot him the finger. I slammed MY bedroom door and yanked the stupid dress over my head and tossed it into the corner. I jerked the dresser drawer open and pulled out a pair faded, holey jeans and shoved my feet into them, then I grabbed a grey hoodie out of the closet, threw on a pair of toe socks and my trusted converse high tops and threw open the window.
Outside my window was an ancient oak tree, it had a branch that sat just below my bedroom window. I had never snuck out before and had no idea if the damn branch would break or not, but I was willing to take my chances; broken bones healed eventually.
I took a deep breath and stuck my jean clad leg out the window and touched the branch. It held so I put my full weight on it and waited. Nothing happened so I pulled my other leg out the window and stood on the branch clinging to the window sill. I glanced down and exhaled sharply. I was pretty high up. Okay, I thought, I can do this. I slowly let go of the window sill and lowered myself until I was sitting on the branch. I breathed a sigh of relief; then shimmied toward the tree trunk.
At the tree trunk, I swung down the branches like I'd done as a kid. My feet hit the wet grass with a thud, and slipped out from under me. I landed on my backside in the wet grass. I stood up quickly and glanced back at the house. No one had noticed my shimmy across the tree branch. I turned and bolted for the woods pretty sure that no one would notice that I wasn't there.
Reviews are better than tighty whitey atomic wedgies!
Also...send me your suggestions...should Carly be a wolf girl or Edward's second chance for salvation? what do you think?
