Recovery

Chapter 7

It's been three days.

Three days without Chey.

Three days since I've lost the will to live.

I tug on a sensible, long sleeved black dress, and a pair of black heels. I twist my dirty blonde hair into a tight bun, tying it back with black ribbon.

Today is Chey's funeral.

I'm going alone- you'd think my parents would go with me, but they are busy. My dads on a business trip.

Mom planned to go with me, but she cancelled this morning.

"I have to go to a lunch with an important client- you understand, right?" she had said when I asked her why she wasn't ready.

I was too numb to reply.

Everything seems wrong. I feel as if I am in a swirling pool of darkness and I can barely see enough. People move around me, but I can't process anything.

I stay quiet, and when I have to speak my voice is clipped and monotonous.

She can't be gone, right? She just can't.

I stumble down the stairs in a haze, and slip into the garage. My keys hang on a hook, and I snatch them before climbing into my car.

Her parents decided to have the funeral at Angel's Place Cemetery, where she'll be buried. They were going to have it in a church, but she would have wanted it outside.

I wonder what they'll bury her in. She would have wanted a flowy summer dress, but knowing her parents they probably chose something formal- what you'd expect one to wear to church.

I remember talking to Chey about death when we were young, maybe 9 or 10.

"Do you think there's really a heaven? Or do you think it's just like going to sleep," I had questioned out loud.

She had smiled at me, a knowing look in her eyes.

"I don't know. I guess we'll never know until we die. But it doesn't really matter, does it? We don't have to worry about that for a long time," she had laughed.

If only she knew.

I grip the steering wheel so tight my knuckles turn white. I still can't believe she's gone.

I watch as a few inconspicuous raindrops hit the windshield.

A sob escapes my lips as I stare at the red light, but no tears come out. I've cried so much in the last few days that I have no tears left. My body shakes, racked with noisy sobs.

I shake my head, and try to pull myself together. I have to collect myself. I have to stay strong.

The cemetery is about ten minutes away, a short drive by anyone's standards. By the time I get there, I've contained my emotions.

I spot a group of people dressed in black. Some of them sit in the chairs set up in neat rows, while others stand in huddles. A tarp is set up over the area, probably to keep us dry.

I take a deep breath, and climb out of my car. I instantly feel a drop of water hit my head- the rain is getting heavier.

I keep my head high as I walk toward them. I have to stay strong. I can't fall apart.

My heart shatters when I see her parents. Her dad has bags under his red and swollen eyes. His hair is disheveled as if he hasn't bothered to brush it.

However bad Chey's dad looks, her mom likes worse. Her entire appearance looks- broken. Like she's lost the will to live.

I haven't seen them since before she died. Part of me wants to run, just turn and run away. What if they blame me?
Sometimes, I blame me.

But as soon as they see me, I know I can't. For a moment, it seems like everything stops.

"Grace," her mom calls, walking quickly towards me. She wraps me into her arms, hugging me tightly to her.

And just like that, all my willpower to stay strong disappears.

Her parents are the epiphany of what parents should be. They loved her so much- they don't deserve this. They don't deserve this.

"I'm so sorry," I whisper, my voice breaking off into a sob.

"Shhh, it's not your fault. You did everything you could Grace. You did nothing wrong," she cries.

When she let's me go, I look up at her.

"She told me to tell you she loves you- both of you," I sniffle. "And that she's sorry."

A sob erupts from her throat, and Chey's dad wraps her in his arms. They stand their like that together, crying.

I feel like someone reached into my chest and tore my heart out. They don't deserve this.

I look around and notice people are going up to the casket- saying goodbyes I guess.

I should probably go up there. But just the thought of seeing her lying there dead makes me cringe.

But I'll regret it for the rest of my life if I don't.

I take a deep breath, and slowly walk up to the opened casket.

Her black hair is curled, something she only did for special occasions. Her lips are painted a ruby red, a light pink blush on her cheeks. The dress is a spring green, with white lace trimming the waist. It's a mix of casual and formal, something Chey would probably have never worn. But it looks pretty on her, and I can't help but think her parents did a good job.

"Chey," I whisper. "Chey, I am so unbelievably angry at you. You left me. You left me alone, Chey. Now I have no one. You just- I miss you Chey. I feel so alone and I don't know what to do. I miss you."

A strand of her hair covers on of her eyes, and I brush it aside with my hand.

"I love you Chey. You know that. But- a part of me hates you right now. You died and you left me alone. I just- I don't know what to do."

I fight back a sob, and take another deep breath.

"I'll never forget you Chey. Not for as long as I live." Despite my attempts to fight it, a sob escapes my lips. I fall silent for a moment, my legs wobbling.

"I guess this is goodbye."

I stumble backwards, and let the next person go up to see her. Tears blur my vision as I walk to the back row of chairs, and sit in the farthest left corner. I don't want to be noticed. I want to be invisible.

I bury my head in my hands waiting for the funeral to start. I try to hide the tears, try to hide the pain.

I hate her. I miss her. I love her.

She's gone. She's dead.

I'm alone.

A/N

Sad chapter.

This story will get moving along soon, and horses will be introduced within the next 5 chapters or so, hopefully sooner.

Anyways- sorry for the wait. I've just been sort of sick lately, and too tired to do anything. I'm getting over a really bad cold right now.

Night my lovelies!