Grace.

Chapter Three: White Chapel .

I arrived early and walked into the church. Hunter was already there. He stood at the front near the altar staring into the casket. I stood at the doorway, unable to go any closer and see my best friend's lifeless body. I was about to turn around and leave when Hunter said my name.
"Emery," he called.
"Don't," I said quietly. "I don't need to see her. I don't want to. I don't want my last memory of Grace to be like this."
I turned around to see guests starting to arrive. They were approaching me and patting my hand, giving me their condolences, asking me if I was ok. I was not ok. I was filled with anxiety and pain. I felt Hunter take my hand and lead me to a pew.
The church was filled with family, friends, and people from the community. The minister was talking about... something. Honestly, I wasn't paying attention, lost in my thoughts. How could she be gone?
I was pulled out of my thoughts when I felt a hand placed into mine. I looked over and realized it was Hunter's. A few minutes later the minister called me up to sing a song.
I walked up to the stage feeling hundreds of eyes, all wanting me to somehow make them feel just a little better, with this song. A song for Grace.
"Thank you. Thank you all for coming. As you know Grace was my best friend. This song is for her."
I picked up my guitar, put the strap on and walked to the microphone. I took a deep breath. In... out...

I heard there was a secret chord
That David played and it pleased the Lord
But you don't really care for music, do you?

I was already starting to cry. It was the first line, what's wrong with me? I was now singing and crying at the same time.

Well it goes like this, the fourth, the fifth
The minor fall, the major lift
The baffled king composing Hallelujah
Hallelujah, Hallelujah ...
Halle-

I stopped singing.
"I'm sorry. I can't." I got up and left with the guitar still in my hand. I walked out of the church and by now I was sobbing.
I ran behind the church and smashed my guitar on the wall. I didn't need it. There were too many memories with it. Memories of Grace and I, playing together and singing. I didn't need it; I didn't need those memories haunting me every time I looked at the stupid thing. I just kept smashing it and smashing it until all that was left was the neck of the guitar in my hand.
"Why her?! What did she do to deserve this? Why Grace?!" I screamed.
I slumped to the ground in a fit of rage. I saw Hunter approaching me.
"I can't. Make it stop Hunter, she can't be gone!" I was crying into my hands. He plopped down on the ground next to me and pulled me into a hug.
"I know! It's not fair, she didn't do anything," he said. His soothing made me feel safe for a second, until I remembered why I was here on the ground, in a random alley, behind a random church. My best friend had died and I was never going to see her again.
"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to freak out," I said.
"It's okay. You're okay." he said rubbing his hand across my back.
"Thank you," I said, feeling better. Knowing he was someone who totally understood me one hundred percent.
"For what?" he asked.
I couldn't believe how humble and selfless he was. "Where do I begin? How about for being there, being my rock. For understanding me and where I'm coming from, and most definitely for not being mad or annoyed." I said.
He still appeared confused as to why I was thanking him. "Isn't that what best friends are for? Are you ready to go back in?" he asked, standing up and putting his hand out.
I grabbed his hand, "You got it."
He took the remains of the guitar out of my other hand and placed it on the ground. We walked back towards the church. They wanted me to finish the song but I knew I couldn't.