You're the Reason

Chapter 12

I was sitting in one of the old wooden chairs, staring straight ahead. I still couldn't believe that this was real, that I was here. My heart had been pounding nonstop since I had found out and I was teetering on the edge of losing it. How could Tiny be gone? I felt someone sit next to me but didn't bother to lift my head. I knew he would eventually seek me out.

"I'm surprised you showed up." Jason said, his voice low.

I exhaled, trying to steady myself. "Why wouldn't I?"

He choked out a smirk, shaking his head. I bit the inside of my cheek holding back. I wasn't going to start a fight at Darcy's funeral. Jason could believe whatever he wanted.

"I just think its funny that you could have cared less about her but yet here you are." Jason said. I swallowed hard, looking at him. He looked like crap leaning against the back of the chair. He had dark circles under his eyes, his skin wrinkled beyond its years and gaunt. He looked tired, worn, and old.

"Why would you think I didn't care?" I asked, my voice sharp but barely above a whisper, "I'm the one who took care of her after you beat her up."

He shook his head, "You cut her out of your life as soon as whatever her face is showed up. Don't you get it? I mean, I don't know how you didn't see it."

I pinched my eyebrows together, "Wha... What didn't I see?"

He let out a sigh, sounding slightly exasperated as if I was a dumb, naïve kid, "She loved you man, why the hell do you think she was with me? It wasn't because she liked me it was because she knew if she was with me she'd have a better chance of you noticing her. And when you finally did notice her you named her Tiny, as if a girl wants the guy she loves to call her Tiny."

"I didn't know." I looked down at my lap.

"Of course you didn't, you didn't take the time to listen to her. You were too absorbed in your own damn problems you didn't see she was crying out for you. You cut her out of your life and look what she did to herself." Jason said, his voice sharp. "And for the record I never laid a hand on her. I'm a lot of things Luie but I don't hit women. She got high, fell down the stairs. I was passed out when she left, she came to you. A day later she was back at my house crying her eyes out because you still couldn't see her."

I felt my throat tighten and my eyes water. "I...uh..."

"Don't. It doesn't matter anymore. But while you're sitting here feeling good about yourself because you're hiding how fucked up you are pretty well and that you think this is my fault, maybe you should ask yourself if she killed herself because you didn't care enough. If maybe you had called her over the past year or hadn't been so focused on yourself, maybe she'd still be here." He didn't wait for me to answer.

Instead he left me sitting there, my mind spinning, my stomach knotting, and my heart breaking. How could I have been so blind? Why didn't I noticed? Why didn't I call? Was I really that self-absorbed? My chest tightened and I closed my eyes tight to keep the tears in. At some point the Pastor had started the service but I was too consumed in my thoughts and my erratically beating heart. I felt like the walls were closing in on me, the air stale and stifling. I wanted nothing more than to loosen my tie and bolt out the door. My mind replayed conversation after conversation with Darcy as I looked for clues. I wasn't that completely clueless was I?

I couldn't focus on the Pastor; I didn't notice the people that filled in the seats around me. All I could feel was my chest tightening; sweat beading up along my hairline and the uncontrollable shaking that consumed my body. I had to get out. I couldn't breath. I don't know how long the service went, I hadn't heard a word, I hadn't even noticed when everyone stood up to pay their respect until the guy next to me tapped me on the shoulder. I looked up at him through bleary eyes, bewildered. I fell into like, panicking as the casket grew closer and closer. I was sweating, shaking life a leaf, desperate for some relief. I shoved my hands in my pockets, clutching my lucky lighter. I needed a cigarette.