A/N: Hey guys! As usual, I am so so so sorry I haven't updated in such a long time! I was busy with finishing up my senior year of high school— as of 3 weeks ago, I am an official high school graduate, yay! Since school is out now, I've been working as many shifts as I can to have money for college, which has been pulling my focus from writing. But I'm back now, and I'm going to write as much as I can before I leave for college! Yippie!
Before you get reading, please note: this chapter is so long I'm going to split it up into two. They go together, so be sure to read both of them. Also, this chapter is a little bit on the graphic side: some people will see Alfie's body at his funeral here, so make sure you are prepared for that.
And without further ado, here are the next two installments of Destroyed! As always, please review after you have finished! Enjoy!
(Alfie's P.O.V.)
When I first realized I had died, I was so shocked that I didn't know how to react; but, fear, sadness, and anger eventually crept up on me, and I expressed those emotions.
When I watched each of my friends return to Anubis House, I didn't know whether to feel more sad because I'm no longer alive alongside them, or angry because I allowed myself to be put in a dangerous situation that led to my death.
Now, I truly, wholeheartedly, have no idea how to respond to the dead Chosen One standing before me.
"Wanna know the truth? It doesn't get any easier." she murmurs.
I stare at her in absolute shock.
"N-Nina…how…what?" I stammer.
She laughs lightly. "What, you didn't actually think I just wouldn't come back here, did you? Please, I could never keep away. Even in death."
I glance at Amber and Fabian, who are still talking to one another, oblivious to the fact that the ghosts of their former lovers are standing so close to them.
"Nina…what happened to you? How did you die?" I ask her.
I'm so shocked I don't know what else to say.
She takes a few steps closer to me and smiles.
"In order to understand my death, you first need to understand your own."
I gaze at her in confusion and annoyance.
"Nina, what are you talking about? I died in a car accident because I was strung out on cocaine, weed, alcohol, and god knows what else! What more is there to understand?"
She purses her lips, as if in deep thought.
"I didn't die the exact same way that you did," she starts, "but both of our deaths resulted from the very same cause. Before I can tell you anything else, you need to figure out what that cause is."
What the hell does she mean by that?!
"Okay, you know I suck at riddles. What do you mean? I know how I died!"
"Yes, Alfie, you do know how you died; but, you don't know why. It's a mystery to everyone, including you, and those two Hathor boys you were with."
"THEN HOW DO YOU KNOW?" I yell.
Oh my god, why does she have to be so mysterious about this? WHY CAN'T SHE JUST TELL ME!?
She takes a few steps away from me.
"You'd think after being captured as the sinner for anger you would have learned to control your temper." she says cooly.
I stare at her in awe.
"Wha- how do you know about that?"
She shrugs. "I watched it happen."
I gaze at her in shock. "What? You've been dead for that long? Jesus Nina, what the fuck happened to you?!" I scream.
She looks at me with sadness in her eyes. I probably shouldn't have yelled at her, but I couldn't help myself— I WANT ANSWERS!
"All I can tell you for now, is that our causes of death are identical. You may not think it, but you don't know what that cause is. When you go to your viewing, take a good look at your body; see if it makes you remember any more details from the night you died. I'll be back as soon as you've figured it out."
And with that, she vanishes into thin air.
I stare at the space she just occupied in total disbelief.
What just happened?!
~ Flash Forward: The Day of Alfie's Viewing ~
(Eddie's P.O.V.)
I've barely eaten since I've been back.
I'm so upset about his death, I just can't bring myself to eat— especially if it's something he loved.
I stare down at the sandwich in front of me. I've barely taken two bites of it, but I don't think I can eat anymore.
I glance over at KT who appears to be doing the same thing.
"I just…I just can't help but think about how much he loved food," she murmurs, "it's so hard to eat when I know he can't anymore."
I nod, and push my plate toward the center of the table. KT does the same.
It's just us sitting at the kitchen table. Fabian hasn't gotten out of bed in nearly fifteen hours— not only because he's depressed, but also because he's still not over his sickness. Patricia, Amber, and Joy are upstairs getting ready for the viewing, while Mara is trying to get Willow out of bed.
I'm not ready to put on a black suit yet. I'm not ready to go to the funeral home, where my best friend is resting.
I'm not ready for anything that's going to happen today.
Suddenly, I hear the front door open. KT and I get up from our seats, and go toward it.
Standing in front of the closed door, is none other than Mick Campbell.
He looks like a disaster.
His hair is disheveled, his face is blotchy from crying, and he's only wearing grey sweatpants and a tattered white t-shirt with a black hoodie over it. He has a black Nike duffel bag slung over one of his shoulders, and black suitcase in the other.
"Mick, long time no see." I murmur.
He purses his lips, and reaches forward to give me a small hug. He pats my back, and then we pull away.
"God, I've never seen it so quiet around here." he says.
I smirk. "Yeah, ever since…you know…you could literally hear a pin-drop around here."
He laughs, and then he fixes his gaze on KT.
"And who might you be?" he asks.
"I'm KT. I came here a few terms ago. It's nice to finally meet you…I've heard a lot about you." She replies, waving at him.
"All good things, I hope?"
She chuckles. "Of course."
"So…uh, is Trudy, or…anyone around?" he questions.
"Trudy's out buying flowers to take to the funeral home, and everyone else is either too depressed to get out of bed, or getting ready." I reply.
"Ah, I know the struggle. When I first got the news…I didn't want to get up either. I couldn't even go for a run before I left for the airport."
"Wow, then you must be really upset."
I look up to where the voice came from, and see Mara standing at the top of the stairs. She's wearing a short black dress, and has her hair and makeup perfectly done.
Mick looks up at her and smiles, and moves toward the bottom of stairs.
Mara makes her way down the stairs, and stops a few feet in front of Mick. Then, she engulfs him in a giant hug.
"Well…I think I'm going to go get ready now." KT murmurs.
I shrug. I probably should as well…
"Yeah, I will too. Especially since I need to get Fabian up."
She nods, and then we go our separate ways.
I sit on the edge of Fabian's bed, and try to shake him awake.
"Hey buddy, it's me. You gotta get up. We need to leave soon."
He stirs in his sleep, but doesn't wake up.
I shrug, and shake him a little bit harder.
"Fabian, wake up. It's almost time to go." I tell him.
His eyes slowly start to flutter open. When he's awake, he looks up at me.
"Mmm…Eddie…I'm so tired…"
I look down at him sadly. I know all too well how it feels to be depressed enough to not want to get out of my bed; but, he can't miss the first part of Alfie's funeral, no matter how upset he is.
"I know," I say while lightly stroking his cheek, "I know you are. But we need to leave in about twenty minutes. When we get back, you can sleep for as long as you want. I'll even lay with you if want."
He shrugs and digs his face in his pillow.
"I can't…I can't do this today." he mumbles.
I rub his back gently. "Believe me dude, it's the last thing I want to do. But we have go. Seriously, you need to get up."
He shrugs. "Five more minutes."
"Alright." I reply.
I migrate to my side of the room. I quickly change out of my clothes, and put my black suit on. Then, I adjust my tie in the mirror, and run a comb through my hair. I spray a little bit of cologne on my wrists, slip my phone into my pant pocket, and then I'm ready to go.
I glance down at my watch: I got done with ten minutes to spare.
I turn around to the other side of the room, and see Fabian is still sound asleep in bed.
"Dude!" I yell as I hurry over to him. I shake his shoulder vigorously in attempt to wake him up again.
"Eddie, stop." he groans.
"No! Fabian, we have to leave in less than ten minutes!"
He looks up at me with tears in his eyes.
"Eddie…I told you…I can't…I just can't."
I gaze at him with utmost empathy I can manage; I know exactly how he feels. I know better than anyone what it's like to feel so depressed that even thinking about getting out of bed is tiresome. I want nothing more than to just curl up beside him and let him know he'll be okay, like he did for me so many times last year, but I can't.
I can't, because we have to go to our best friend's funeral; there's nothing I can say or do to make him feel any better, and that destroys me.
"Fabian…" I murmur. I sit next to him on his bed, and rub his shoulder gently.
"I mean it," he chokes, "I can't handle it. I can't see him like that again."
I sigh. "You don't have to look at him if you don't want to…I honestly wasn't planning on looking at him either…actually, I don't think anybody was. Just stay by us the whole time."
He continues to cry. "It's not just that. It's the fact that I'm going to be reminded that he's gone forever for several hours, and that people are going to want to talk to me about him because he was my best friend and his parents will be there and my parents will probably be there and I just can't deal with them!"
His sobbing has escalated, and I'm not sure what to do.
I'm about to open my mouth to speak again, when suddenly I hear the door open. I look over to see Amber, wearing a short, black, pleated dress, entering our room.
"Hey, are you guys about ready—Fabian?"
He lays his head back down on his pillow and continues to cry. Amber shuts the door behind her and hurries over to us, her black stilettos clinking against the floor.
She sits down beside me, closer to Fabian's head, and gestures for him to scoot closer to her.
"Eddie, go put on a different tie. That one's hideous." she demands.
I glance down at my black and grey striped tie, and then back up at her.
"What's wrong with this tie?" I ask in confusion.
She looks at me with firm eyes.
"Everything. Seriously, go change it!"
I roll my eyes, and slide off the bed. As I'm doing so, she slings her legs on to the bed, and lays beside Fabian. She then tilts her head toward his ear, and starts whispering something to him.
I reach into my closet, and pull out a solid black tie. I remove the old one from around my neck, and put the new one on.
I whirl around and face Amber; when I do, I notice that Fabian is up and getting dressed.
She stands up from his bed, looks at me, and smiles.
"That one is much better." she exclaims.
And then, without another word, she leaves our room.
I look over at Fabian in confusion.
"What did she say to you?" I ask.
He shrugs, and starts securing a tie around his neck.
"I'll tell you later. Let's just get ready to go."
Fabian, Amber, and I emerge from my room. I quickly notice that everyone else is standing in the foyer, waiting for us.
Yacker is standing closest to us. She is wearing a skin-tight black mini dress with a leather jacket over it, black fishnet tights, and black ankle boots. She looks hot…
When I approach her, she wraps her arm around my waist, and tilts her head up to peck my lips.
"You ready to go, babe?" I ask her.
"Yeah, we're just waiting on Willow."
I gaze ahead of me, and see all of my housemates (and Mick) dressed entirely in black. This is going to be so horrible…
"Has anyone heard from Jerome?" Amber wonders.
Joy shrugs her shoulders. "Not a peep."
Mara sighs. "I mean…it's not like he and Alfie were super close toward the end—"
"Stop," Fabian snaps, "Please, please…stop…don't talk about…how he's ended…"
I watch as he puts his head in his hands and starts sobbing. Amber rubs his arm for comfort, and leans her head on his shoulder.
The rest of us fall silent, unsure of how to help him.
After a few minutes, I hear heels clink against the stairs. I look up to see Willow descending them.
When she reaches the bottom, I notice that she's not wearing a black outfit; she's wearing a white halter dress with two large blue and pink flowers, a jean jacket over it, and magenta heels. I can tell by everyone's facial expressions that they are as surprised as I am.
"I…I don't want to mourn his death," she explains, "I want to celebrate his life…not only because it helps me to think somewhat positively about his funeral, but also because I know it's what he'd want us to do…and I can't do that if I'm wearing black."
I nod in understanding, knowing that she's entirely correct. We all smile at her, and Joy reaches over to hug her.
Trudy emerges from the kitchen, joining us in the foyer.
"Well…the funeral begins in thirty minutes," she announces, "we should probably get going."
I lace my fingers through Patricia's as we all move toward the front door.
This is it. It's time to leave for my best friend's funeral. It's time to say goodbye to him, even though it's the very last thing I want to do.
I don't even know how to express how much I am dreading this.
All I can do is sigh, squeeze Patricia's hand, and shuffle out of the house, toward what I am certain will be the worst evening of my life.
(Alfie's P.O.V.)
She can't actually believe that I'm going to figure this out.
I've been staring at my body for what feels like forever, trying to rack my brain of more memories from the night I died; but, all I've done is discover new cuts and bruises that I didn't notice on the night of my death, and that even though I'm dead, I can still smell the abundance of disgusting chemicals that have been injected into my corpse to preserve me.
I look slightly better than I did that night. The major gashes and lacerations on my face have been stitched up, and the excess blood has been washed away. I am wearing a black suit, and have my hands folded together as they rest on my upper abdomen.
However, it is still apparent that my death was gruesome. My eyes and lips are puffy and swollen, there is a massive purple bruise on my forehead, my hands have countless scars on them from the penetration of lots of glass, and there is an eerie, thick, pink scar that begins at the bottom of my chin, and runs in a jagged line down my neck, and into my suit.
How am I supposed to figure out how I died based on that? It's pretty obvious that I was in a horrible accident…
Stupid Nina. She knows that I'm not good at riddles like she and Fabian are, and that the two of them have more smarts in their pinky fingers than I do (or, did) in my entire body. How am I supposed to figure out my mysterious underlying cause of death based on what I remember, and how I look?!
I shrug, and walk away from my casket.
My viewing has just begun, and the only people who have arrived so far are my parents, grandparents, aunts, uncles, and cousins. My real family isn't here yet…
I like how the viewing is laid out: it consists of a large room filled with flowers, pictures of me, and a table filled with various hors d'oeuvres and desserts.
Off to the right side of the room is a small hallway that leads to the smaller room where my coffin is. It's slightly hidden so people who don't want to see how truly awful I look don't have to.
I want as few people to see me as possible; since I couldn't protest an open-casket funeral, this arrangement will suffice.
Also, Noah and Charlie's funerals are taking place in the parlors downstairs. I spoke to the two of them briefly before our calling hours began, and they agree; we shouldn't be open to the world for viewing, but the set up is as nice as can be made.
I drift toward the table full of food. I can't actually feel hunger anymore, but I would give anything to munch on a chocolate chip cookie, or crackers and cheese…
I glance at the grandfather clock in the corner of the room and see that it is already 4:15. My hours began at 4:00, and many people have already arrived. I recognize the majority of them: my immediate and extended family, some of my Dad's co-workers, my mom's friends, a few of our neighbors, and only a handful of people who I swear I never met.
Then, out of the corner of my eye, I see them arrive.
Eddie and Patricia are holding hands at the front of the heard. Fabian, Amber, and Willow are directly behind them, while KT, Joy, Mick, Mara, and Trudy follow in pursuit.
I smile, and glide over to them.
Even though they can't see me anymore, I still feel so much better when I'm close to them. They're the people I love more than anyone; even though it pains me to watch them mourn for me, being in their presence eases my pain.
Trudy breaks away from them and goes over to my parents, and hugs each of them. I can't help but roll my eyes. Does she not realize that the reason she is here right now is because they made a ridiculous decision?
The others advance further into the room, and form a circle. I move to the center of it. Over their shoulders, I see many other people who I used to go to school with arrive through the entrance, in addition to Mr. Sweet and some of my old teachers.
"Let's avoid Mr. and Mrs. Lewis at all costs," Joy begins, "I honestly don't think I can deal with them."
Everyone agrees.
"Can we also stay clear of my parents?", Fabian asks, "I know they'll show up and try to talk to me, but I can't deal with them yet. I can barely handle being here, so…"
KT takes his hand into hers, and gently rubs her thumb against the back of it.
"Of course," Willow replies, "I don't want to speak to them either."
This is going to be interesting.
I know for a fact my parents will try to talk to them. They'll approach them as if they're not guilty of anything, and they'll express their condolences as if they weren't the reason behind them. They can try to avoid them, but I have a feeling they won't succeed.
"Well," Amber murmurs, "What do we do now?"
Eddie looks over toward the food table. "It looks like there's food. And we could look at all the pictures and stuff." He replies.
"I'm gonna look at the pictures. I don't think I can eat at the moment." Fabian murmurs.
Buddy…
Everyone disperses. Patricia, Eddie, Mara, Mick, and Willow go to the food table, while Fabian, Amber, and Joy walk toward my shrine.
Wait, where's KT?
I whirl around, and see KT walking toward the hallway.
No…oh no…KT, don't!
I run up behind her, and try to pull her back from what she's about to see; however, I fall to the ground in doing so.
She continues to walk down the hallway, toward the room where my body is.
KT, NO! WHY ARE YOU DOING THIS?! TURN AROUND! TURN. AROUND!
It's no use; there's nothing I can do to stop her. She's going to look at my cadaver, and be scared for life like Fabian is.
Damn you Mum and Dad! You guys just had to have an open casket funeral, didn't you?
When we reach the end of the hall, I see two of my Dad's co-workers standing by the casket, blocking our view.
KT slowly takes a few steps toward me. I want nothing more than to jump in front of her, and push her back into the main room with the others. Why does she want to see me, anyway? Why wouldn't she want to remember me as I was? My last memory of her is listening to her telling me she loved me over Skype. I'm so glad that was the last thing she ever said to me; why, why, why would she not want her last memory of me to be me telling her I loved her in return?
She's only a few steps behind my Dad's colleagues now.
They're still preventing her from seeing me lifeless; I wish they would stand there forever.
Then, one of them looks over his shoulder, and smiles at her. He grabs the other guy gently by the sleeve, and they step out of the way.
She takes a few steps forward, until she is right beside me.
She lets out a small gasp, and covers her mouth with her hands.
Her reaction reminds me of when we went down into the crypt after Denby convinced us that Frobisher had died. She was the first to see him "dead" in his coffin, and she had a similar reaction then. I never thought I'd say this, but I'd give anything to go back to those days…
She slowly brings her hands down from her face, and begins to study my corpse. I watch her eyes dance over every laceration, bruise, and scar; I can tell she's becoming more horrified as each second passes by.
Tears begin to fall from her eyes. She's not sobbing, but she's more than teary-eyed. It breaks my heart.
"Alfie." she whines
She brushes her fingers lightly against my cheek. I can tell that my cold temperature catches her off guard, because she yanks her hand back as soon as she does so.
Her tears start falling at a quicker pace, and before I know it, she's crying hysterically. She drops down to her knees, and kneels against the little beam before the casket that people are supposed to pray on. She grabs the side of the coffin for support, and continues to cry.
I instinctively bend down beside her, and rub her back in comfort; but, my hand slips right off of her.
"KT, I love you so much," I murmur, "I'm sorry. I'm so, so, so sorry."
If she were this upset and I were alive, I would be smothering her with hugs and love; it's the only way I know how to offer comfort. I know she can't feel me, or respond to me, but trying to comfort her is all I can think of doing right now.
I'm not sure how long I've been kneeling next to her, watching her sob, and trying to hug her back to happiness, but eventually, her tears slow, and she stands up again. She wipes a few of her tears from her eyes, and fixates her gaze on me.
"I'm sorry Alfie," she chokes, "I'm so sorry I couldn't save you. I'm sorry for everything…I love you…I'll never forget you, I promise."
"You have nothing to be sorry for. This isn't your fault!" I scream.
She can't blame herself for my death. She did absolutely nothing wrong! She can't feel guilty for this, she just can't!
Then, she bends over, and places a small kiss to my left temple.
She looks at me one last time, and then she starts walking back toward the main room.
(Eddie's P.O.V.)
"Jeez, I never thought funeral food could taste so good." I say as I take a bite out of a chocolate chip cookie.
Patricia whacks my arm in disapproval.
"I can't believe you can even eat at a time like this," she spats, "We're here because one of our best friends died—because he can't eat anymore— and yet, you're happy about how tasty the food is."
"Yacker, this is the first thing I've been able to ingest since I left America," I tell her, "Don't think any of those thoughts haven't crossed my mind."
"It's okay, I haven't eaten much since I got the news, either," Willow mumbles as she chews a chocolate covered strawberry, "and besides, Alfie loved food. By eating all kinds of sugary things like these, we're actually honoring him."
"True." I reply.
Patricia rolls her eyes, and looks around the room. After a few minutes, she tugs on my sleeve.
"What's KT doing?" she asks.
"Huh?"
She grabs my shoulders and turns me around so I'm facing the entrance to the parlor. Then, I notice KT walking out of it at a quickened pace.
"I don't know…I'll go find out."
I set my plate of desserts down on the table, and follow my best girl friend out of the room.
She hurries down the hallway, and then plops down on a floral couch that's in front of the bathrooms. She buries her face in her hands and starts crying.
I immediately sit down next to her, and drape my arm around her shoulders.
She looks up at me with sadness and pain in her eyes. She then leans her head on my shoulder, and continues to sob.
"Shh, it's okay," I murmur, "It's tough, I know. I don't want to be here either."
She lifts her head up from my shoulder and gazes at me.
"Eddie…I…I just saw him," she chokes, "He…he looked awful. He barely even looked like himself. It was terrible."
My heart sinks. I don't even want to imagine what he looks like…I can't fathom what I would have done if I had seen him.
"Hey, c'mere." I murmur as I pull her into a hug.
She rests her head on my shoulder again, and continues to cry. I rub her back in circles to try to soothe her, but it doesn't seem like its helping her at all.
"I…I thought I could handle it," she whimpers, "I saw my gramps in his casket, and I handled it well. It helped me, actually…it gave me a sense of closure. I thought I could do the same for Alfie…but he just looked so bad. I would give anything to un-see what I just saw."
I hug her tighter and kiss her cheek.
"I'm so sorry," I whisper, "I wish I could have done something to stop you."
She shrugs. "Just promise me that you won't go look at him. I know you're doing so much better after last year, but…no one, mentally stable or not, should have to see him like that. Remember him as he was…you don't need your last memory of him to be so scarring."
I nod and gently pat her back. "I won't. I promise."
"Good...can...can you…can you sit here with me for a few minutes? I don't think I can go b-back in there yet."
I lean my head on top of hers, and squeeze her shoulder.
"Of course," I reply, "I'll stay here as long as you need me to."
(Joy's P.O.V.)
"It's been such a long time since I've seen any of you," Alfie's Aunt Peggy exclaims, "You're all so beautiful and grown up."
I smile. "Thank you so much. I think the last time I saw you was at Alfie's big 13th birthday party."
"Yes, I believe that was the last time. I'd forgotten about that party. They went all-out for that one."
"They did. There was a rock climbing wall, several inflatables, and lots of food. It was fun; Alfie was fun."
Her smile quickly turns into a frown. "He sure was. I still can't believe this happened to him."
I'm about to reply to her, but my phone suddenly buzzes in my pocket.
"Go ahead and take that, dear," she murmurs, "I'm going to go check up on his parents."
Without another word, she walks away. I pull my phone out of my pocket; my heart skips a beat when I see who the incoming text is from: Jerome.
I open it immediately.
Are you at the funeral home?
Yes love, we all are. I instantly write back.
He responds less than a minute later.
Can you meet me out in the parking lot? I'm here, but I don't want to deal with anybody. Just wanna pay my respects and leave.
I sigh. I can tell he's taking this reeeeeeallly hard. He and Alfie may not have been the best of friends at the time of his death, but they certainly were for the majority of his life. They were working so hard at trying to repair their damaged relationship; they weren't where they were a couple of years ago, but they were better than they were when Eddie was at his worst.
Of course. I'm coming right now. I text.
I hurry out of the parlor, and make my way toward the parking lot.
