ONE

9 yrs. Old

When I woke up the next morning I could vaguely remember Daniel putting me down on my bed when I had used up all of my tears. I knew that I didn't have to worry about Danny's mom or dad, Tiffany and Jeff, looking for him- they would know that he was here. Our parents were like his second set of parents and his parents were Matthew's and my second set of parents. Just like usual, (I was surprised that anything was normal in the world) I stared at the ceiling for, I think, about five minutes before I got up. I sat up and saw Daniel sleeping on my window seat. I stared at him a minute, still trying to wake up. His dark blonde hair was shaggy and falling onto his forehead. I sighed and climbed out of bed.

I looked around my room, trying to put some thoughts together in my groggy state. I had a big bed with a sage green, quilted comforter. There was a big window, right above where Danny was sleeping, that looked out into my backyard and into the giant peach orchard beyond that. I had a chair to the right of my bed and a big closet and vanity to my left. I walked up to my vanity and examined my reflection. My wavy, dark brown hair was messy and hanging so it was just below my shoulders. I normally liked my eyes, they were big and a deep blue, but they were puffy and red from crying the night before. I saw my chin quivering before I felt it and tears were threatening to cascade down my cheeks once again.

You need to pull it together, Emmaline. You know that Matt would not want you to be sad. Nope. No way, no how. He would want you to be happy and live your life.

I decided that that was what I was going to do. I would be happy and not dwell on this. Of course I would be sad. I would be more than sad but I couldn't let that take over my life. I knew that Matthew loved me and would never want that for me. It was surprisingly easy to make the decision.

I heard Daniel groan and sit up. He mumbled something that sounded like, "I should get going." I whispered thanks to him and he smiled at me warmly. I waved goodbye as he climbed out my window and disappeared.

I was not looking forward to breakfast with my parents this morning. I guessed that they would not have come to the same conclusion about Matthew's death that I had. They would also probably be wondering why I didn't appear to be sad in the least. I stepped out of my bedroom, my socks making my footsteps quiet. The house was eerily silent. I didn't like it. I stepped up to the staircase that led from the second floor balcony, outside of my room, to the entrance hall in our house. It was a big staircase and it had always reminded me of the ones in the movies that the beautiful ladies at balls come down after they are introduced. I only acted like a girl at a ball on special occasions though. Usually, I just slid down the banister with Matt and Danny. I climbed up on the banister and slid down, facing forwards with the wind blowing my hair out behind my face. At the last moment I grabbed on tight so I wouldn't fly off onto the floor (which I had done before and I did not care to do again). I jumped down and headed to the kitchen.

I walked in hesitantly, not really wanting to see my parent's faces. They were both sitting at the table, staring at their plates that were both filled with eggs, bacon, and pancakes. I slid up to the table and dug in- it looked delicious to me, anyway. I glanced up when I saw both of them turn their heads my way. Both of my parents were looking at me like I had gone insane. I would have to explain my thoughts. I took a deep breath to explain when my mother cut me off.

"It's alright, sweetie," she said with a look that said she knew exactly what I was thinking. She didn't. My stomach grumbled and I quickly decided that I would set my mother straight at a later date.

After I finished eating and got ready for the day I told my mom that I was going to Daniel's house. It only seemed natural that that was where I would spend my time from now on- with Danny. I headed over to his house just like I would everyday for a few days. I didn't want to be with my parents when they were sad. I knew they needed time to grieve, though, so I would give it to them and then I would tell them what I thought Matthew would want us to do.

Over the next few days I was amazed to find how close Danny and I had become. We were already pretty close; he was like a big brother to me even before Matt died. I was surprised, though, how it was like we had been best friends our whole lives when it had been just a few days of us playing with only each other. I would never tell Danny but I thought it was like we were connected in some way that other best friends weren't. Most of the time, I would know what he was thinking by just looking at his eyes and vise versa. I knew that he was my rock. He would always be there for me. I also liked how I knew that I didn't just need him, he needed me too. In such a short time I knew that nothing would ever change our friendship. We would always be best friends and nothing could change that. Of course, as a nine year old, I didn't know exactly how hard it would be to stay so close.

The funeral was depressing, to say the least. Everybody was wearing black and crying. Except me of course. Despite the pleadings of my mother, I wore a bright yellow dress and not the black outfit that she had bought me the day before. I also wanted to speak at the service by my mom put her foot down when my dad almost let me. She thought I would start bawling or something right in the middle. Instead, I had to sit through an hour of strangers saying nonsense about some little boy that I didn't know. Danny agreed with me. I knew this because I sat right between my parents on my right and the Parkers on my left. Danny held my hand the whole time and we whispered about the people who were speaking about this "Matthew". I knew that if Matt were here he wouldn't like it one bit.

I'll stop talking about the funeral- as you can see; I didn't like it at all. So, I will change the subject to something interesting. I believe in ghosts. I think that they are all around us- not in the creepy way, though. I thought it was more to comfort people. I didn't even want to think about heaven and hell and whatnot but there was one thing that I knew. Sometimes I felt Matt. I felt him with me when something really good happened or if I was sad. So that was why I started talking to his headstone. Sure, it sounds morbid, but I felt him more when I was around the cemetery.

The day after the funeral was the first time I went to the cemetery. Maybe I expected to see Matt's ghost or something. It didn't happen like that. I walked up to his headstone and traced my fingers along his name. Before I go on, you have to understand that this wasn't creepy at all. It seemed only natural to go to Matt's headstone and start talking to him.

"I miss you Matt," I whispered. I didn't know how to talk. I mean, how do you speak to someone that is dead? Since I didn't know how to go about talking to my brother, I decided that it would be best if I acted like he was right there and I just couldn't see him. "Mom and Dad aren't talking much. I think I am going to tell them how I think about it. You know that's why I am not acting really sad, right? I do miss you I just don't think that you would like it very much if I wasted my whole life like that." I went on like that, having a one-way conversation with my dead brother. At the very end, I felt Matt. Not physically but just like he was beyond my reach. I felt his spirit next to me and I knew that he liked that I was here. That was the reason that I never stopped going to his grave.

When it was lunchtime, I decided to go home. When I got to my house I yelled to my parents, "Mom! Dad! Time for a family meeting!"

I sat in the living room that was normally the place that we held meetings. My mom came in first and sat on the chair across from me. She was a very pretty woman (people said I looked just like her) but you could already tell that Matthew's death was wearing on her. She had dark brown hair, just like me, but wore it long and straight. She also had big, dark brown eyes. My father came in next and sat down next to me. He had dark blonde hair and I got my blue eyes from him.

"I need to explain why I haven't been acting very sad," I said, getting right down to business. "I am not sad because I simple don't think that Matt would have liked it. He would have wanted us to be happy and keep on living. None of this moping around! We can do things in memory of him and we shouldn't not do things just because you don't think it would be right without him here. He wouldn't want that. Not at all." I finished my speech by looking into their wide eyes. "Just think about it." Then I walked out of the room with them gaping after me.

Hope you guys like it so far! It's hard to put what is in my head in words, you know? Please review! Thanks for reading.