Covered By Her Scars

26

~ death is a challenge. it challenges us to show we care. it challenges us not to waste the time we have with others. and it challenges us to speak our truth, before it's too late. ~

Coal

Sofia left around noon yesterday. I haven't done anything since she left. 

My parents have called me a few times, but I didn't bother to answer. I wanted to be my own person, not someone they wanted me to be. 

When the thought of Luke came to mind, I knew what I should do. 

____________

When I arrived at the cemetery, I hesitated for a second. But I knew I needed to talk to him. 

I made my way through the dainty gate, and over to Luke's gravestone. 

When I got there my eyes were filled with fury. The blood colored letters that were on his gravestone sent murder into my mind. 

The one word someone wrote out in red spray paint. Bastard. 

My fists clenched. I wanted to kill the person who painted that on. I wanted their friends to feel the pain that I felt when I Luke died. I wanted them to be the one buried alive under that gravestone. 

Suddenly, I hear leaves cracking behind me. I turn around and see a group of 3 guys, one of them holding a spray paint can. I crack my knuckles. My eyes twitch at the sight of the bitches who did this. 

I run. I run after them. 

They run. They run away from me. 

It doesn't take me long to catch up to the guy with the can and grab the hood of his sweatshirt. 

"You think your so funny eh?" I spat at him. He shakes his head vigorously. 

"No, I um-" I cut him off, pulling him off the ground by the collar of his shirt. 

"Your going to clean that shit up, no matter how long it takes." I grumble. 

He nods his head pleadingly, but before he can do anything else, I jab him right in the eye. He was a pretty big kid, could get a hit in on me if he tried hard enough, but he was no match for me, and I knew that. 

I hit him repeatedly, looking up every so often to see if anyone was there. It was only his 2 friends, yelling at me to stop. 

Blood splattered on my shirt. I wasn't thinking. I was just doing. Luke replayed in my mind a thousand times. He was the soul purpose of my happiness, and for someone to call him a bastard after he fucking kills himself? I wouldn't stand for it. 

I don't stand for anyone's bullshit. Especially not some ghetto kid who thinks he can get away with that. 

I don't stop. Soon enough my punches are going to kill him. But that doesn't even faze me when Luke's on my mind. But the thought of Sofia seeing that, the thought of her seeing someone calling her dead brother a bastard? I couldn't bare it. 

Suddenly I start hearing sounds again, this time it's something different. 

"Coal?" Sofia's soft, echoing voice questions. 

I look up and see her limp body standing over me. I probably looked horrific right now. Blood all over me, beating up a kid who is half my size, and my teeth gritted, fists clenched. 

She takes in the scene in front of her, before a tear drops from her eye. She runs off, back to the dainty gate she came from. 

Fuck.