Bury My Love ➳ A BajanCanadian Fanfiction *EDITING*

Games (Chapter 2)

Earlier that day...

I sit in my car, checking my watch. I don't want to arrive to early, with the fear of the situation being too awkward.

10:52 am.

I think it's clear. I step out of my vehicle and stare up at the building above me. It resembles somewhat of a church, but a sign at the entrance reads, 'Funeral ~ Memorial Service'. The place seems quiet, though when I approached the large front doors, it was clear that there are some attendees inside.

I push open the rustic entrance and find myself in a wide open hallway. Ahead of me, two French doors are set open, leading to an almost empty area with long, wooden benches. At the front is some sort of stage, and a table, where I assume the casket is to be placed soon. Side tables with contained flowers line the narrow aisle, giving the place some sort of warm feel.

I suddenly realize that half the people in the room are staring at me. I look around and recognize Rob immediately. He seems... surprised at my presence. I trudge toward him with my hands in my suit pockets, with a grim expression, unlike my usual upbeat self. It's been a few weeks since I've talked to him; since my departure from YouTube, the now former Pack hasn't been all that close, talking every alternate week or less instead of the everyday that we used to.

I reach him, and we (semi)hug. I haven't seen him in person since Ryan's wedding. I open my mouth to say something, but quickly close it. I don't have much to say, and even that statement breaks my heart. Thankfully, Rob strikes up a conversation.

"I'm thoroughly surprised you're here, Mitch," He begins; a topic I would rather not be conversing about, "y'know... considering." I sigh, feeling bittersweet, though overall sorrowful.

"It's out of respect..." I start, my throat feeling heavy, "After all, he was my..." I can't finish my sentence. Using terms in past tense makes the situation feel more surreal.

"Don't worry man," He places a reassuring hand upon my shoulder, "He was a great friend to all of us. Despite arguments." Easy for him to say. He was probably one of the last people to talk to him--

Now's not the time to get mad. They're my friends--best friends at that. I should cherish them while I still have them...

More people of all ages begin to file into the building. They wear black, like any other usual funeral. A color for sorrow and weeping. I myself wear a black suit, complete with a white dress shirt underneath my buttoned blazer. Rob is wearing almost the exact same outfit as me, as well as the majority of men in the room. I recognize some of my old friends, and I greet Ryan when he comes in.

Soon, the ceremony starts. I take my seat in near the middle and listen intently. Not long after are we allowed to view the casket. One by one, we pay our respects to the dead. With everybody in front of me having already viewed, I head up, approaching slowly. My eyes are on the floor until I'm about a meter away from the casket. Then I look up and see--

-

I suddenly wake up, jerked into a sitting position. My breaths are heavy and deep, like rapid gasps and sighs. I can feel my shirt sticking to my back with sweat, as well as trickling down the sides of my head. I prop myself up using my arms, which are extended behind me to keep me elevated. My covers are up to my waist, which presumably fell when I was awoken. The room is very dim, with no light emitting through my covered windows. The only light I can see is coming from the crack under my closed bedroom door. Guess I forgot to turn off the lights last night.

I swing my legs over the side of my bed and rub my face. Nightmares are enough, but of course I had to have one of memories...

I slide down and the soles of my feet feel my smooth fabric suit. I must've thrown it off onto the ground last night. I don't really remember all of what happened last night, but I do notice the immediate head ache I get when I stand up. The pain causes me to back up against the wall, furthermore injuring it when bumping it against the hard surface. Barely opening my eyes, I see a black wave inching into the center of my vision from the edges. Just before it blinds me, the pain somewhat subsides, giving me back my vision.

Shuffling across my room with my bare feet, I enter the brightly lit bathroom. The medicine cabinet lies open, probably from yesterday? I reach out and grab some Advil, taking two tablets, swallowing them without water. One of them catches in my throat and I cough, my shaken hands grasping for a cup, filling it with water. The liquid soothes my throat as I swallow, relieving me of my breathing problems. But the medicine hasn't quite kicked in yet, so I head back to my bed and fall on top of my messy sheets.

They feel like clouds.

I open my dry eyes once more. By now, bright sunlight is peeking through my closed blinds. I look at the digital clock beside my bed.

Quarter to one. How long was I out for? I guess that explains my grumbling stomach.

I slide off my bed and open my door, letting both artificial and natural light blind me. I take the stairs slowly, making sure that I don't hit my head again. The air is chilly, and I realize that my balcony door is open. I remember now. Yesterday, to air out the house from my burnt breakfast, I left it open before I went to the--

...to the funeral.

I sigh as I enter my kitchen, pouring milk into my cereal. There's no way I'm going to burn another piece of toast today. Suddenly, I feel another itch in the back of my head, welcoming another headache. Maybe I'll go play some CoD to clear up my mind.

My hand feels wet. I look down and see that the milk had l over spilled. Well, there's another breakfast ruined.

I pour some milk into the sink until the bowl is about half filled. Picking up a spoon, I head downstairs to my gaming setup. It's been four days since I've been down here, which is absurd, considering that I used to come down here every day. And that of course brings back more memories. God dammit...

-

Continue in Chapter 3...

Edited 05/05/15