I'd like to write a happy ending…but I don't know how.-2046
Gen: Sure you can call me Clara. I am SO glad that you love this story. And thank you SO much for ALL the compliments, but I have to say there is no way I'm a better writer than you. Very glad you liked the chapter; I decided it needed a bit of bitter-sweet instead of just all bitter. Well not really bitter, but you get what I mean. I love getting your reviews! Ahhh, I just go all warm and fuzzy inside. Nice to know I'm doing something right. And thank you so much for all the positive feedback on this chapter. I think I was just feeling discouraged. And you can quote me any time you like. I'd be honoured.C xxooxx
J: Thank you for understanding. And for reviewing ALL my stories
Em: Thanks for reading poodley. Xxooxx
Ryan91: D
A/N: I stole one of the lines in this chapter from the absolutely amazing and brilliant movie Lost and Delirious. I just love that line and I've always wanted to use it. so, yeah, it's not mine.
They stood at the cemetery. Beside Seth's fountain.
His commemorative fountain. It was painted sky blue and covered in fluffy white clouds. Around the rim there was a pattern of red sailboats.
Behind them stood the chapel where the funeral had been held.
Summer spun the ring the ring on her right finger. Three fingers on her left hand bore the scars of her pain. They were only the beginning of her scars.
Guilt.
It coursed through Summer almost as strongly as her devastation.
Zach turned up at the funeral.
When she saw him her guilt turned to anger.
White hot anger.
Beyond a rage black out.
She slapped him.
Hard.
So hard she broke his cheek bone.
And three fingers in her right hand.
She stood before them all. Cream white lilies dotted with pink surrounded her, the scent enveloping her.
She stood before them all and willed herself not to cry. Her right hand was tinged purple.
The colour of royalty.
She stood before them all, silently curling and uncurling the fingers of her right hand with her left. The left bore two rings. Seth's class ring and a man's ring with an I engraved. She could feel the splintered edges of her bones scraping as she moved her fingers. Pain as strong as her anger shot up her arm.
And it helped.
Anything was better than the other pain.
She began to speak,
"The Fantastic Four wasn't Seth's Favourite comic. He had his own Fantastic Four." Her left hand fell to her side. The right was clenched in a fist.
"CosmoGirl, Little Miss Vixen, Kid Chino and the Ironist."
Her knuckles turned white.
"When we were growing up, all that mattered to him was keeping the Fantastic Four fantastic,"
Her fingers ached.
"But it turned out in this comic; the good guys could never win,"
She paused. She stood before them all, the only sound sounded like someone scratching a wall. The desperate scrabbling of a climber who was sliding down the icy walls of her own misery.
Into oblivion.
But that was only heard by one person. And she wasn't sure if she was hearing herself.
"And they never will. But they were never defeated by the bad guys. Two of them were killing each other. And one couldn't stand the slow painful death they had given each other. And now I'm saying goodbye. And I hope you can forgive me. And know that I never had to forgive you. Because, to me, nothing that you did ever needed an apology," she turned to face Seth.
"Did you know that after you die your hair keeps growing? And your nails? And when you sneeze your heart stops for a millisecond. Did you know that every time I kissed him all I saw was you? Cheetahs are the fastest land animals? And know every time you called I had to lock myself in the bathroom to stop myself answering? And that the only thing I ever loved more than you was you loving me? But I guess I loved to hate myself more. Because every time I breathed without you it burned me, and whenever I said anything I had to bite my tongue to stop saying your name. And hurting was easier. Easier than saying you were wrong. You were never wrong."
Her voice was barley audible now. Most people just saw a grief maddened girl looking at the coffin and crying.
Most people.
But Marissa saw Summer's heart breaking. Heard its shards cut her up. Heard the desperate whispers of someone who had lost her other half.
She saw the beautiful irony.
His death was a result of her impending demise.
And he died on the day they celebrated her birth.
"Well...you were wrong. Wrong to believe I stopped loving you. And wrong to keep loving me. Did you know that after seven years all the cells in your body are different? And now there is nothing left in me of the little girl you fell in love with. And you were wrong when you said I was beautiful. When you said I was perfect. Because I loved you. and when you love something…you have a weakness. You can't be perfect if you're weak. So I guess you were wrong. "
Have you ever been really thirsty, and you opened a carton of milk and poured it into your mouth and it's…sour?
Memories can leave the same taste in your mouth.
That taste that makes you remember everything that's wrong with you.
The imperfections.
The flaws.
The failures.
And turn you sour inside.
And it's forever.