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Clara's P.O.V

The pain is consuming me now. I was able to ignore it while I was planning the funeral, but now that I'm no longer busy all the time, I have more time to think. And thinking is bad because it makes me remember. Harry is the only person who can distract me, and he can't be around all the time--he's a superstar. Nobody except the rest of the band and Tyler know that we're dating, and that's a good thing--that way I don't get as much hate from the fans. They do know that we're friends, though, and that pisses them off. It's always something with them, I guess.

Ty and I went shopping yesterday to get dresses to wear to the funeral. I settled on a sophisticated black dress with leather straps from "Forever 21" for like ten bucks, and Ty got something similar in lace without the leather. Hers is dark purple, of course, because Ty didn't want to wear black. She claims it makes her too depressed. I am sitting in my dress in the bathroom, straightening my hair to look perfect, but no matter what, I don't seem to be able to look good. I'm just freaking out because it's my mom's funeral, I know, but still. My breath keeps hitching and Harry knocks on the door.

"Clara, love, can I come in?" he requests.

"Yeah," I say, frowning into the mirror.

"You look beautiful, Clara," Harry grins in that cheeky way he has. I try to smile back, but it comes off as more of a grimace.

"I'm sorry, I just--"

"Don't apologize, love. It's your mum's funeral. I understand," he massages my shoulders and kisses my neck tenderly. "You ready to go soon?"

"I guess," I sigh. "I just don't feel like anything is perfect. I know it is, I just--God, I wish she were here."

"Maybe she is," Harry tells me. "But that's not up to us. We just need to honor her memory, right?"

"Yeah," I croak. "I guess so."

Harry and I leave the room to go meet the rest of the band in the living room. They ended up keeping a lot of the money they made at the concert, because we didn't need all the money that the fans gave. They went pretty crazy. Tyler hugs me and kisses my cheek comfortingly and I give a weak smile. Louis puts an arm around me lazily, but I know it's his motion of support. Niall, Zayn, and Liam stand in the corner smiling encouragingly at me.

"Let's go," I say with a deep breath. We leave the hotel room and pile into the van. We decided to not do a traditional funeral. We're not going to have a priest or a rabbi or any sort of "holy person" help us. It's just going to be us and my mom. We arrive at her coffin, which is open so I can have one last look. The boys and Tyler give me a minute while I kneel beside the coffin and take my mom's cold and pale hand in mine. "I'm so sorry," I whisper. "Mommy, I miss you. I didn't want you to die. I wasn't prepared for it. I know I should have been, but I wasn't. Does it hurt? Dying, I mean. I've always wondered if it hurts..." I know I'm rambling, but I will never see her again after this. I let out a small sob and press my forehead against her hand. Of course she doesn't respond--she's dead. She's gone. I don't know why I expected her to say something, anything. But I know I can't expect that. "I love you, mommy."

Everyone comes back as I close the coffin, taking one last peak at my mom sleeping peacefully in silk pillows. She looks like an angel. Harry takes my hand, the one I was holding my mom's with. It's odd how different their hands feel. Mom's was so cold, she's dead. But Harry's are warm and...alive.

"You ready?" I ask the boys with a small smile.

"Yeah," Liam answers for all of them, stepping towards where the coffin. A year ago, if my mom had died, I would have been at the coffin alone, saying goodbye with no one, but now One Direction is here to support me and sing uplifting songs about memories and things like that. "Story of My Life" starts on Niall's guitar and th familiar tune flows out of the boys' voices. I am distracted, though, not paying attention. My thoughts are clouded with memories and emotions and colors. I barely even notice when the song ends and everyone looks at me expectantly.

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