So, I decided that I would make the final part into smaller bits to spread it out. This part took forever to write, even though it's the only thing I'm currently writing in. I already have like two chapters written for the Rest is Silence and at least like eight for Scarred Youth. I will type, don't worry! Tell me what you think of this chapter!
Chapter Three: Tuesday Mourning
Denial comes natural to the human body, when an event that steals the soul, and leaves you empty occurs. It is a defense mechanism, used for the weakened to deal with truth.
For her, it was her only choice.
A silent and mocking house began to cave in on her and she held her breath, waiting for the tide to go past.
But the tide didn't end, and it kept her under, casually letting her drown from the inside. Her house was filling up with salt water, and at every second, a stinging sensation came and burned her open wounds. Her majestic blue eyes filled with salt water and she wished it would end.
Her whole world ended that day, four days ago, four years ago. She wanted to move on, but she couldn't leave anything behind. Her son was dead, and her other laid on a bed near it.
Gliding into the room, she saw her husband, her support come in and greet her on the bed. He kissed her, but she didn't feel anything. She hadn't felt anything for four years, four days.
Life had been good before this. She was happy, her family was happy. Nothing had rocked their existence, and they lived for once in a world with no real drama. Then it all floated away.
It had been a normal night, her and her support were watching late television. No, it wasn't late night t.v. She hadn't watched late night t.v. in so long. She had slept. She had been happy.
Phone calls from the hospital were never good. They brought an inevitable depression. It rang, late at night, just as they headed to bed. She picked it up, her voice filled with an annoyed, tired, yet friendly tone.
And then she heard the dreaded "I'm sorry to say, but your sons have been in an accident." The phone dropped to the floor, and she began to shake. The salty tears poured from the fearful widened eyes. The phone was in pieces as she uttered infamous lines of worry.
The drive to the hospital was a silent one, and she never stopped shaking. Support offered reassurance, that the boys were all right, but she never believed it. Something had been wrong.
Traffic was being led around a wreckage was being cleared. But you could see all of it. A black Range Rover completely totaled, and she lost control of her stomach. At a stop light, she threw up.
Every once in a while, she would have a nightmare that'd she lose everything. That she'd be left alone in a world with no one she knew. Everything would fall away slowly, until all she had left was herself.
It was coming true.
The sun was rising, it was mourning. Three hours left, like three months, until her son would be buried. Put into the ground. Six feet under. Pushing the daisies.
There was no doubt that she had not nearly had enough time with the boy. No one ever had enough time with a person that's dead. It was a natural fact.
She slowly lifted herself up, but when she stood up, her legs gave out. Falling to the ground, fresh tears escaped her body. She tried to breathe, but it hurt so much. She gasped for air, yet none of it came into lungs. Her husband held her close. She fell apart in his arms for the millionth time.
She didn't want to say goodbye, no one did. It was such a simple thing, yet the most difficult thing in the world. How could you say goodbye to a son? A friend? A boyfriend? A brother?
The last time she had been to a hospital was when her father almost died. That had been scary, but it was nothing like this.
Parents were supposed to outlive their children. It was inhumane to see someone so much younger be rid of life so easily.
The hospital hadn't been busy that night. There was only one emergency in the town that day.
You never know how much you love someone until you're forced to claim their dead body.
His face had been at peace, and he was so badly hurt. Hurt enough to die. It had been instant, no chance of survival. He didn't feel any pain, unlike everyone else. He got to watch as his family died inside.
Sedation is a last resort, one doctors most do for the safety of everyone. She screamed and was held back, until an easing numbness overtook her.
She envied doctors. They weren't nearly as affected by death as a normal person was. But then again, she felt bad for them. They had to watch countless people and their own soul die.
Too many souls died that night.
Being sedated, she dreamt of a perfect world. She dreamt of their life that morning.
All the teens had been over, three happy couples. Nothing could be better. The kitchen would be empty the next day.
She was assisted up, and helped get to the bathroom. The pain was unbearable. Every step killed her more. When you lose a son, a part of you dies. Almost both her sons were dead, and she couldn't take it.
When she had seen her other son, barely breathing, she had collapsed in her chair. His hair was a mess, she didn't speak a word. She couldn't lose him. He was the only thing keeping her on earth.
He was still lying there.
As her husband put the water on hot, she stood there, shaking violently. He tried to keep her sane, but she couldn't take it. Today was her son's funeral. He'd be lowered into the ground. People would say they're sorry, when really they didn't know him.
Never had there been so many phone calls directed to their house. People she didn't even know called them, all because of his death.
He sat next to her, watching, worrying, being. She knew she was unstable, but she didn't want to hurt him. If she went away, she'd leave him with nothing, and he'd follow, and their other son would lie on a bed, oblivious to all.
After all, death was an ongoing circle.
Late at night, she would cry her hopelessness to no one. Tears would rock her to sleep and sometimes she hoped she'd never wake up.
She didn't leave her son's side for two days, two years. She'd scream at him to wake up, to make this all a dream. But he never did, and they had to keep going in this nightmare, where they all were slowly dying.
He wrapped a towel around her, trying to warm her up, but she'd never be warm. She was as cold as ice, in a freezing lake, letting an imminent chill run through her blood.
He could feel the pain she felt. At points in their marriage, he felt she no longer loved him. They both betrayed each other, hoping to satisfy the needs they had. But really, they just needed each other again. They became stronger than ever, and now, it was the ultimate test.
He helped prepare the black clothes she'd wear to her son's funeral. It would be the hardest thing, saying goodbye.
The word "goodbye" tricks you. To say "goodbye" is a depressing thing. You're leaving someone. It's a "sad-bye" not a "good-bye." Once you say goodbye, all you want to do is follow the person. It's not fair that you live and they don't, but it's the way of life.
She changed into the funeral clothes, and began to apply makeup, her face. She'd cover up the sunken in cheeks, the bags under her eyes, the thin lips quivering. The blue eyes were bloodshot, and it was a sea of emotion.
Remembering what the two girls looked like in the hospital, she knew that her family wasn't the only family destroyed. They all had to pick up the pieces of a life shredded into little bits of pain.
Her lips pierced together, as she held back a river of tears. They couldn't be held back, there were too many, it was too strong a force that these barren ocean eyes could hold. They fell down and took away her facade.
Her husband appeared next to her and wiped the tears from her face. She tried to gain a happy face, but all it turned into was more tears.
Drunk driving had destroyed them twice, and they had just gotten back from hell. Now, they were back in hell. Again. It wasn't fair that they had to go through it again. Their family couldn't have peace for very long.
She was assisted numbly out of their room and to the vast, empty main room. She had seen her sons in this room so many times, and it had never mattered. Until now.
All she wanted was for them to cross the room and head into the pool house and play games on the television. She wanted to walk in there, and not see a dark room, where she was constantly reminded of the emptiness that now lingered in her heart.
They walked to the kitchen and she barely fell into a seat. He took out two glasses, and filled them with water. The glass was set in front of her, and ripples began to form. Salty tears mixed with purified water, and made waves, that if her husband was small enough, he could ride. He stopped long ago, no one could pinpoint when. It just happened. The vicious turmoil of almost drowning was nothing compared to this.
She knew today was an end of an era. A new one would begin, one no one wanted. They had to let go.
She had never been good at letting go. She couldn't do it, especially to someone she loved, someone she'd give anything for. She'd give up anything for her family.
The house began to fill up with water again, and she fell into him for support. She knew she'd be long gone without him. She could deal with this kind of emotional overload. She wanted to take a hundred sleeping pills and die.
Nothing hurts more than walking out of a hospital after you had claimed a son's dead body and watch the other slowly creep their way from death. Nothing about it was fair, but they had to go through with it.
And in two hours, now two seconds, they'd let go of a loved one, whose life was cut short because of an accident. None of them deserved to go through this, but that was they was the cards were dealt.
The house was quiet, a moment of silence for what its' inhabitants were going through. She wanted to scream at her pain, make it go away, but her voice had lost itself. She couldn't say a word as all the suffering around them seeped into her veins. She couldn't say a word as the car engine turned over and they headed to their son's final resting place.
Yeah, I had a person picked out for the death, but now, I don't know. It might have changed. I love seeing who you think is gonna die.
Tell me what ya think!