Chapter 2: Miserable Sleep
Emma closed the door behind her, taking deep breaths to calm herself down. She had made it through the funeral without breaking down, which for her would've been tragic since she barely knew him let alone did the town know that. Most of the town was there, except for the few like Leroy and Regina. Regina's absence surprised Emma, seeing that Graham ended up in her bed most of the night's she was off duty. But then again, as Graham said, he had no feelings for Regina and maybe Regina had finally picked up what he was laying down.
She dropped her jacket on one of the dining chairs and unattached her badge, lying it on the table and walking to the kitchen to grab a drink. She took a random bottle from her stash of alcohol and poured it in a glass cup, gulping it all down. She sighed and sat down at the table and stared blankly at the wall.
A tear ran down her face. How did she make it through the funeral? Another tear fell and dripped of her chin onto her black shirt. She gulped, trying her best to hold in the tears, but they were unstoppable. More tears came, millions it seemed dripping of her chin each minute. She couldn't hold them in any longer.
She laid her head on the table, letting her tears form into a puddle of salty water. She sobbed hysterically, hiccuping a few times after each batch of tears and loud sobs. Sadness and grief came at her like waves, hitting her then falling then coming back. Thoughts began running through her mind, covering up the happiness and understanding and showing the grief and sadness and anger she was feeling at the same time.
Why couldn't you save him? Why did you refuse him? Why didn't you accept him the way he was?
She sobbed harder, listening to her conscience ask her more questions. She thought back to the look of everyone's faces at the funeral. Mary Margaret crying on Emma's shoulder as she looked at the dull, wooden casket. Gram spilling a few tears as she stood by Ruby who looked sadly at the ground. A group of unfamiliar people crying together hysterically as they pointed out the faults in the ceremony.
Emma wondered what Graham's parents were feeling at that moment and why they weren't their for their son's funeral. No one seemed to be related to Graham, which saddened Emma even though if it was her it would be the same.
She poured another glass and gulped it down, hoping to cause the pain that she didn't know how to control. She hated being so helpless with her emotions at that moment. She stared at the tall bottle, tears still running down her pale face. She stared at the bottle miserably as she closed it and stood up, walking to the kitchen and putting away the bottle and glass.
She cleaned up her tears on the table and sighed, wiping off her face with her hands. She felt miserable and tired as she went to her bedroom. It was a quarter till midnight until she stopped crying and finally began to sleep, but she wasn't alone. Mary Margaret sobbed in the room next to her as she read over a few speeches that she had written for the burial the next day.
Emma closed her eyes as she began to hear quiet sniffles next door. She felt her heart ache as her last tear fell onto the bed sheets. It was quiet for the rest of the night, and Emma couldn't have gotten a better, miserable sleep.