My beautiful brother was still laid upon his bed the next morning. I walked in to see the morning sunlight shining on him. He looked so at peace, I couldn't help but smile. I climb into the bed next to him and wrap my arms around him. His cold body doesn't bother me in the least. I was just happy to be near to him and give him a kiss on his cheek.

"Miss Scout," Cal says standing in the doorway with a bucket of soapy water.

"Yes, Cal," I reply with respect.

"I gotta clean him up, baby," she says it so sad and soft spokenly that I feel pity for her. I get out of his bed and reach on my tip toes to give her a kiss.

"I love you, baby," she says squatting to give me a recipricol kiss.

"Love you, too, Cal."

In that moment, I heard Aunt Alexandra sob. She starts to walk in the bedroom with a hankercheif covering her face. She always loved being dramatic and I was peeved off she had almost knocked me over in the process. No, I wasn't going to get angry at her, not today. She finally removed the hankercheif and stared at Jem. She then throws herself on Jem and sobs some more. Cal puts down the bucket and tries to comfort her.

"I'm so sorry, Miss Alexandra," Cal says putting her arms around her.

"I loved him so," she says through the heaves.

"Sister," Atticus says standing in the doorway. I run to him and wrap my arms around his waist as he begins to rub my back. "Jack's coming up."

"Oh, Uncle Jack!" I was excited now. I always loved my Uncle Jack.

"I knew you'd be happy," he gives me a little smile. He is being the rock of strength I always knew and admired.

"Oh, Brother," Aunt Alexandra lets herself go from Cal and gives her brother a hug. Atticus was trying so hard to be strong and she has now caused him to breakdown. I saw the tears fall from his eyes. How I hated her in that moment.

"What time are people coming to see him?" Cal asks wiping her own tears and returning to her bucket.

"Three o'clock," Atticus replies letting go of Aunty. "We better get out of here and let Cal clean him.

"Okay," I say already walking out. The situation was becoming too overwhelming for me. I walk into the living room and plop down on the sofa. It was quiet here and comfortable. I bury my face in my hands and let the tears flow. I hated this day, this month, this year. Hell, I started to hate my life.

"Get up, honey," Atticus comes to me giving me a hair massage.

"I hate this, Atticus," I say not budging.

"I do too," he says not budging, either.

I look up at him and try to smile through the tears. He is smiling back at me. Through all the pain, there is love. In my young mind, I already understood this.