Honor (Kickstarting My Heart # 1) (UNDER CONSTRUCTION)

Prologue

As a child I was told to seize the day before it could slip like loose change through your fingers. Adults would imprint it in our minds that we had no idea what might happen tomorrow, force us to take into consideration that our actions affected other people's life in some way. I hadn't taken much credence in their words, had shrugged or blown it off as yet another thing our parents fed us to make sure we weren't raised to become monsters.

Never in my wildest dreams would I have thought I'd be spending a Saturday morning in an uncomfortable fold up chair on the altar of the local church as I watch my older brother's funeral play out like a depressing drama before me.

This wasn't supposed to happen. Brendan had been everyone's idea of perfection. Our town lived and breathed football; high school and college. I had joked for years that it was the fact we didn't have a professional team that everyone squeezed into the bleachers at our games. He was the definition of a Golden Boy; loved and adored by the entire town.

He had various posters taped over the ugly floral wallpaper around the trophy case in the halls at school, the blown up, slightly pixelated picture of the star quarterback with his happy-go-lucky killer smiles that girls had been swooning over since grade school.

"To pick yourself back up," Brendan had always lectured, "you've got to know what it's like to hit the ground."

It had been his motto and pep talk to his teammates any time they lost a game. He was a star in everyone's eyes, a precious masterpiece that everyone loved or loved to hate.

So why was he taken away from us so soon?

". . . it's that sick, cold feeling you get in the pit of your stomach when you realize he's really gone." the words from the boy at the lectern twisted inside my gut as I leaned back into my chair. I ignored the rest of his speech, ignored everyone's wandering eyes that always seemed to fall back on my family rather than who was speaking or the coffin.

I still hadn't quite escaped the shock of my brother's death. I couldn't accept he was really gone, that he wouldn't come bursting through the front doors of the Church. My brother, my Brendan, the guy that had insisted on putting others needs before his own, that smiled even when he was falling apart inside, was gone.

And he wasn't coming back.

". . . he truly will be missed and will live on in our hearts forever." the pastor bowed his head in a mock prayer as the full room dissembled and he stepped down to join them in front of the pews.

I felt my mother's hand lock around my wrist. It was unusual for her to not say a word; my mother was one of the biggest conversationalists I knew. Turning slowly, I took in her appearance.

Her dark hair, pinned back tightly only hours ago, was in waves down her back and curtaining her worn face. Her chapped lips were as ashen and colorless as her tear stained cheeks.

"Go ahead." she finally choked out.

I swung my purse over my shoulder and hurried away from the crowds of strangers that had encircled my parents before I could get caught back in the coming tide. Maneuvering my way through a couple pews, I was relieved to find myself outside minutes later.

I exhaled, my breath forced and shaky as I took in the blue sky, the sun bled through a cloud, refracting off Brendan's Cherry red convertible. The weather was strange for the end of summer, a cold front had blown in over the last week and had stuck around.

"Ariel!" the hoarse voice tore me from my daze. I felt every ounce of confidence I had regained on my way out of the church drain in an instant as I lifted my head to face the boy before me. His once lively greenish-gray eyes were cold and vacant, as if no emotion had been in them for weeks. He stood with a slight hunch, something I never believed I'd see out of Andrew McLaughlin. He appeared to have as much hatred for himself as I did for him.

"Ariel." he tried again. 

I stared blankly in return.

He had survived the accident, he was standing right in front of me while my brother was lowered into the ground to rot away little by little. He would have a chance at life, a chance to become someone.

"I. . .I'm s. . . sorry." he grasped my forearm as he stuttered, eyes glistening with desperation.

I stared at him again for a moment, my eyes roaming his face. His striking eyes grew dark as he stared into mine, possibly right through. He saw his best friend in me, in my words, my eyes, my entire presence. He was guilty, and there was a part of him that should be. It wouldn't matter if he apologized on repeat for the rest of our lives, it wouldn't bring my brother back from the dead. It doesn't matter how hard I try to convince myself otherwise, I knew my brother was gone and nothing was going to change that.

***AN***

I hope you guys enjoyed!! Kind of a heavy chapter :(

Let me know what you guys thought!

~ChasingMadness24