B.R.O.N.X. (Justin Bieber Fanfiction)

"I think I will take you up on the car races, if the offer is still up."

Another two men had died along with my dad. Their families clustered around us as a silent share of sympathy. I actually didn't care about those people and I knew they didn't care about us. If it was up to them, they would've killed my father themselves if that meant they could have their beloved one back. I know that because I would have done the same. As cruel as that sounds.

My mom wept during the entire ceremony. I didn't know where she got the tears from anymore, how she didn't run out of them. Jaxon was like a puppet, holding my mom's hand in his little black coat as he stared ahead not understanding why they were burying his daddy. Jaxmyn was hiding behind a pair of the darkest sunglasses I'd ever seen. Her face was pale, and her hands were inside of her jacket pockets because they were trembling. I had noticed, but I hadn't dared try to touch her for fear she would scream or cry or god knows what. She hadn't spoken since Saturday. She wouldn't even look at us. It was killing me inside. Even more so.

Brooklyn's parents and Blake had come, all offering their condolences. I could tell my mom appreciated the moral support—she even let uncle Rob hold her—but I didn't. All these strangers would never understand what I was going through inside my head. Not even Brooklyn or Tyson did. I had been aware of their sneaking conspiratorial glances and hushed words all week. I knew they both wanted to help me, the problem was they couldn't. No one could.

After the funeral was over, people started dispersing, black dots abandoning the grassy Calverton National Cemetery for Veterans to get back to their old lives, most of them probably unaffected. The one-hour-ride back to the city seemed impossible to conceive right now. I wasn't ready to leave yet.

I stood still, watching the patch of uneven soil I had helped throw on top of where my dad now lay. It had been hard to throw the fist of damp sand. It was hard to see it now. I had to clench my jaw so tight I thought it might snap in order not to break. Brooklyn remained with me, her own eyes glassy as she hid her face in her scarf. The weather was nice except for the chilly temperature. I laughed out loud because it hadn't been one of those movie scenes where a storm breaks dramatically during the funeral, and there's a creepy guy hiding under a black umbrella. Actually, the sun was shining down on us with a diabolic smirk. It seemed totally undisturbed by the fact that three people had been buried today. I felt a stupid pang of hate towards it for that.

"Do you want me to leave you alone for a while?" Brooklyn's soft voice disrupted the silence.

I looked down at her hand in mine and then up to her eyes. She was wearing sunglasses too.

I nodded, not trusting my voice. She looked so broken—whether it was because of my dad of because of me or both I did not know—that I couldn't keep looking at her, even if her eyes were concealed behind her Ray-Bans.

"Okay, I'll be in the car. Take as long as you want."

She gave me a light hug before disappearing. I felt bad for how I'd been treating her, but I knew if I started spilling whatever twisted thoughts I had in my mind, I would only hurt her more. I needed to sort through them myself first.

The wind blew soundlessly around me as I stood there alone. No one else was around. I don't know how long I just stayed there, staring at the headstone with my father's name carved on it. It only made reality more real, which sucked.

Jeremy Jack Bieber

1975 - 2013

Loving father, husband and warrior.

They scribbled something else related to his military service, but it meant nothing to me. That had been what killed him.