Who Wants to Live Forever?
January 7th 2014 AD
Dear Diary,
Today was Bobby's memorial. He died six days ago of a cerebral aneurism. It seems everyone has begun to suppress their emotions. I know Dean hasn't cried yet, and I wonder if this has finally broken him. He's not the Dean I abandoned my brothers to help, he's cold. He's a broken and sad man, and I know everyone is whispering the same thing about me. They claim the drugs, the intercourse and my mindless following of orders is all a sign of depression. I don't think so. I've just given in to my humanity.
I have cried, though. Don't get me wrong. Bobby was the best father I have ever had, which is saying something because I was an angel. A pyre was built high just for him, and we drank late into the night, lighting fireworks and telling stories of Bobby's achievements.
However, earlier on in the day, Dean was up boxing Bobby's stuff, and I cautioned him about burning it all for fear of a ghost. It was wrong of me to, I think. He punched me in the ribs and threw me out of the cabin, saying that if he saw my face again today, he'd make me wish I never bought him back from Hell.
It was a bluff, because he saw me at the fireworks and didn't do anything about it. He must just be feeling grief.
Dean isn't the only one who has lost someone. Bobby was the father-figure to all of us who had lost our families. Risa and Chuck have no one since Bobby. Many of the other people I've encountered are orphans too. He will be remembered as long as we all shall live.
From,
Cass