Moments

One

It is the morning of the funeral, and I am tearing apart my room trying to find the right blazer to wear. The best I find is a light blue blazer that is too long, and a black blazer that is too thick. I decide to go with the black blazer. I take it out of my closet and wear it over a  light blue, buttoned shirt and my black pants. I examine myself in the mirror one last time. My hair is scruffy and my skin is tired and grey. I sigh, then I leave my old room. I almost trip over my own feet as I walk down the stairs. Harry shouts “Watch out!” but very quietly, almost a whisper. I collect the bouquet of white daffodils from the living room and carefully place then on the dinner table.

I can hear Ben crying upstairs but I choose to ignore the cries, Liam, or someone, will calm him down soon enough. With every cry I hear my fists clench together, leaving a deep, red line in the palm of my hands. I pull at the backdoor until it opens and hurry into the garden, my hands struggle in my blazers inner-pocket searching for my cigarette packet. Finally, I pull out the cigarette and light it. My eyes shut as I inhale the smoke, I feel my blood pressure reducing with every pull. When I begin tasting the filter in the smoke I drop the cigarette and crush it into the grass with my feet.

At the cemetery people are fanning themselves. I thought about how fantastic it would feel to walk along the beach, in the wet sand, with the ocean lapping at my feet. Liam and Louis would go surfing in the sea, Niall would make sandcastles and Harry would entertain himself by checking out chicks in the water. And I, I would be walking in the wet sand with Melissa. Melissa. Neither of us liked it when the water reached above our waists. She would always tie her hair up in a messy bun to prevent it getting wet, but it would always be too loose and strands would submerge in the water eventually. Her hair was always so beautiful.

As we walk through the cemetery I notice Melissa’s parents and Nicole by the grave-site. Mr. Evans is standing off to one site, cracking his knuckles the way I do when I get nervous. Our eyes meet, but we don’t approach each other. Nicole’s hair is carefully brushed to one side and so sun-bleached I mistake it for being white.

At the grave, I stand besides my Harry and Niall. I bite my lower lip so hard I taste blood. I can feel the sweat trickling down my forehead. Liam and Danielle arrived from the other end of the cemetery, followed soon by Jackie, Dallas and Christian. Mr. Evans decided to keep the funeral as private as possible, only close friends were allowed. The boys and I were on one side of the grave with Eleanor and Danielle next to us, Jackie, Dallas, Christian, Mr. and Mrs Evans and Nicole where opposite from us. I could feel the tension in the air. Jackie was staring into my soul with fury, for screwing up and causing Melissa pain. Christian was giving me glares for taking away his childhood love. Mr. and Mrs Evans wanted me dead, I was the reason their daughter was gone. Jackie seemed to be the only one there who didn’t want to conspire against me at the moment.

I didn’t cry. I hear Liam making snotty, gasping noises. I hear Danielle whispering to him, comforting him, but I can’t make out her exact words. Eleanor clings to Louis’ hand and continuously glances over at me. Niall looks straight ahead. Harry too, but he bothers wiping away his tears, Niall does not.

I’ve never felt so alone in my life. I shift from one foot to another because my shoes are too tight around the edges and my feet hurt. I concentrate on the pain, I concentrate on the blisters forming on my toes, because that way I don’t have to think about the coffin being lowered into the ground. Or that Melissa’s body is inside of it.