Chapter 41: The Death of a Flower

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That night, I can't sleep. Sterling's mother's face is all I see whenever I close my eyes. That broken, twisted expression. That tear-smeared makeup. Those empty, hollow eyes. So empty. So hollow. So void.

Janelle's parents had looked broken, too. Of course they did. Their daughter is dead. A piece of them is gone. But Sterling's mom? I think... I don't even know what to say. The look on her face – in her eyes – was just so...

Devastation.

That doesn't seem to be the right word, but it's the only way to describe what I saw.

Frustrated, I toss back my duvet and climb to my feet. Darkness swallowed my room and everything in it hours ago, painting everything different shades of gray and black. I don't care, though. I pad back and forth, pacing in the dark.

My mind is loud, and my body is restless. I can't hold still, not even if I tried. So I don't. I don't try. I don't resist. I don't fight it. I move. I pace. My thoughts race.

As Sterling's coworker, I am sad for her because I know she'll never get to achieve any of her goals. She'll never be able to travel to Italy. She'll never be able to get the PhD she wants. She'll never be able to ride an elephant in India or go skydiving. She'll never get to do any of that, and that is sad.

But then I remember her mom's expression, and that's when my brain switches gears. As a mother, I can't even begin to imagine the pain that comes with putting your child in the ground. I can't imagine the anguish that causes, but after seeing that woman's face, I never want to experience that.

It's not natural. Burying your baby. That's not how it's supposed to go. You have a baby and raise it up, with every expectation that that child will outlive you because that's how it works. That's how the story goes. That's what is supposed to happen. You birth them. You raise them. They get a life. You get older and older, then eventually, you die. Then, they are the ones who are supposed to toss handfuls of dirt into the deep hole your casket lies in, not the other way around.

A parent is supposed to go before their baby.

I squeeze my eyes shut and suck in a hard, deep breath. It feels hollow and cold in my lungs. Bitter. It tastes bitter. Does that mean anything? Does that mean I'm still alive?

In the end, I'm not supposed to be. I'm supposed to be the one buried six feet under with eyes stitched shut and skin like ice. Or maybe it was supposed to be worse. Maybe I was supposed to be nothing more than a pile of bones. A beautiful, yet a horrific disaster. A victim of ghouls.

Because that's the truth. It was supposed to be me. I was the one they wanted. I was supposed to be one of the fourteen. The fifteenth, I suppose. Had they got me, Janelle, Sterling, and Gabriella would probably still be alive. They'd be here. And their parents wouldn't be suffering so wickedly.

Exhale.

It doesn't matter. It doesn't, but it does. It doesn't matter because there is no way to change what has already happened. Because it has happened. There is no changing that. And it matters because, in the end, people still died. People are dead. They are gone forever but dwelling on that will never change anything.

So, I can stand here and feel guilty, sad, scared, and everything else in the world, but that'll do nothing. It'll fix nothing. No matter how hard I feel those feelings. They will change nothing.

Janelle is dead.

Sterling is dead.

Gabriella is dead.

They are all dead.









**Bello lovelies! A short chapter today with another look into Y/N's head. Seems this is all eating her up. Would you feel the same? Feel free to let me know! Well, as always, thank you so, so much for everything! Y'all are awesome sauce! Wuv yous!! <3**

-Noel Ross

Freak ~Juuzou x Reader AU~Où les histoires vivent. Découvrez maintenant