𝐧𝐨 𝐛𝐨𝐝𝐲, 𝐧𝐨 𝐜𝐫𝐢𝐦𝐞- 𝐫𝐚𝐟𝐞 𝐜𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐨𝐧

2.

But after that, there weren't many more "see you tomorrow" conversations. Sarah latched onto the Pogues even after the blonde boy pointed a gun at her boyfriends head. From there on there weren't many times I got Sarah by herself without having to deal with John B.

I sat in my room, the soft blanket pulled over my legs. I stare blankly at the tv that repeated Sarah's death over and over again. She was so infatuated by the Pogues that she died with one. Without a doubt, she stepped onto that boat with John B and was drawn into the storm.

I blamed everyone for it. The police. The Pogues. I could make a list, but they were the main two.

She chose a murderer over her friends and family. But if she showed up at my doorstep right now I would hug her tight and tell her I didn't care. Because though she ditched the Kooks, she was there for me whenever I needed her. She dragged at me everyday to join her and lose my view of perfections.

I felt sympathy for the Cameron's. I felt sympathy for Rafe too, although he didn't seem too disappointed. My parents and I went over to see how Ward and Rose were doing and Rafe was sitting at the table nervously picking at his fingers. I knew he was out of it because he didn't speak a word to me. But a day later he was back to normal and didn't act like he lost a sister.

I walked onto the balcony, spotting Rafe on the couch doing whatever he does. Besides his rudeness, it's the drugs he does second to best. His addiction to cocaine was strong. He sold to many Kooks at parties and at Midsummers. He thought it would be funny to get me, but I've never fell for it before. Mainly because anything he says, I don't trust.

Rafe spots me in the open door, not bothering to wipe away the cocaine on the coffee table set in front of the couch. Instead he leans forward, curious to see what I'd do. I've said my apologizes about Sarah. I can say no more because I don't know anymore. I don't know how to comfort someone when I don't know how to comfort myself over the same situation.

"Are you going to sit down or are you just going to stand there?" Rafe wondered, motioning towards the chair across from him. "I've got some... goods."

"I have no interest." I mumbled, not taking my eyes off of his.

"You're only here for Sarah." He nodded. "I have nothing to do with her. She didn't listen to me. Go talk to the fucking Pogues if you're so upset."

I stood there for a moment. "I hate you. Even when Sarah's gone you don't care about her. Everything that comes out of your mouth is Pogue vs Kook."

The corners of his mouth twitch into a smirk. He cares more about what the Pogues are doing than mourning his sister. Though, he never truly cared for her. He only ever cared about himself. I shouldn't be saying this, but I can't help it.

Rafe goes to say something, but the sound of running interrupts him. Rafe quickly wipes away the white line spread on the table. A moment later, Wheezie is behind me peeping her head between my shoulder and the side of the door. She's dressed in all black and her eyes match the emotions her dress radiates.

"We have to go. The funeral starts in thirty minutes." Wheezie sniffed.

I feel even worse for her. Sarah was not only her sister, but also her best friend. The two have always been close despite their bickering and disagreements. Whenever Wheezie interrupted Sarah and I out by their pool, she would annoy us of course. Sounds bad to say, but Sarah would give her a look that secretly told her to go back inside and stop asking us to play games in the pool. I think Wheezie knew that we were too old.

I smoothed out my black dress, facing Rafe who was ready in his tux. "Shall we?"

The minister spoke for what felt like hours. Sheriff Peterkin is now dead. Dead because of a Pogue... no shock there. Rafe stood up front with Ward and Rose. I couldn't help but notice the constant glances towards the FBI agent. I couldn't see Rafe's face, but as soon as he stepped out of the car, he held no emotion.

Everything here made me tick with emotions I didn't want to feel. Hatred, panic, sadness, hurt, sympathy. I didn't know what to feel at once and if everything was piled on top of me it would feel as if I was suffocating. I longed to understand the glances the FBI agent shot Ward and I longed to know why Rafe held no emotion for his sister being lost at sea. Her body wasn't even found. Not that they would check so far out.

Finally, the funeral ended. Another minute here and I wouldn't be able to handle it. The pain was still settled in my heart, refusing to move anywhere else. It was so stubborn. I didn't want to hear any of the cops pathetic apologies either. They don't know where Sarah is because they chased them right into the storm.

Sulking was the only other option for me. Staring at the pictures of Sarah and I hanging on the wall of my room seemed like a distant memory when it was only two weeks ago at Midsummers. The Pogues crashed that too, ruining the night for everyone except Sarah.

What made me more angry was the large red letters written across the Cameron's household concrete fence. 'Murderer' was written there from the Pogue herself, Kiara Carerra. It made my stomach twist whenever Sarah mentioned her name. We hated her, we agreed to that. Sarah was the one who made me block her, so I listened because although I'm older and Sarah was known for copying my actions when suggested, I listened to her because she told me everything Kiara did.

I pulled out my phone, scrolling through Instagram for any sort of distraction. But all that was there were hundreds of pictures with Sarah. People claiming to be her friend when they weren't at all. I didn't understand why people would be so fake with this kind of thing. Sarah died and there were people she didn't even like who posted out of sympathy.

I rolled my eyes, landing on a post from a former student in my class. He graduated with Rafe and I, but he wasn't shy about still living with his parents. Supposedly he took a gap year that slowly turned into nothing at all minus the endless parties he held. I never showed up. I never truly cared, but I suppose it couldn't hurt. Not anymore than the increasing pain from the past weeks events.

To the party it is.