Dead To Me (slow updates!)

Chapter 1

Clovers POV

When they told me my father was dead, I didn't react. I didn't cry, or scream, I didn't feel anything, I was numb. It was as if the moment those words were brought into existence the world turned black and white for me. Nothing seemed real anymore. My best friend, the only person that ever truly cared about me was gone, and there was nothing I could do to get him back.

At his funeral I had to be taken outside when they opened his casket for the viewing. It was just to much to see him like that. Laying there in a box, lifeless, grey. I wanted to grab him by the collar of his shirt and shake him until the life returned to his face, but I knew that that couldn't happen. I fell to my knees in the church parking lot, my head rested against the hot pavement. For the first time since he died I was able to cry. I screamed so loud I was sure everyone inside could hear me. All I could think was what had I done to deserve this, having my father yanked away from me and buried in the ground. After that day I knew I couldn't stay in California, I had to get as far away from here as soon as I could.

That day after the funeral I got a phone call. It was my grandmother, my fathers mom. She hadn't been able to make it to the funeral, air travel was hard on her old body she had said, but I knew it would have just killed her to see her only child that way. We talked for a while and then she listened to me cry before she told me why she had called. She said my mother had called and asked her about me coming to stay in Maine. "Take some of that pressure off of your poor mother" she had said. Of course I quickly agreed to come, telling her I wanted to get there as soon as possible. The truth was I just wanted to get the hell out of this city, as far away from my fathers grave as I could.

I packed up as much as possible that same day and shoved it in the back of my dads old Ford Branco. He had always been obsessed with that car when he was still around. He was always in his garage underneath that thing, covered in grease and oil. Mom said i could take it, that she didn't want to see the damn thing anymore. It reminded her to much of my dad right now. I gave her a hug and sat with her in her bed as she flipped through an old scrapbook full of her and dads memories. It was her way of coping and I would have been damned to stop her.

That night she handed me a wad of cash, much more then would be needed for the trip and waved me goodbye as I headed off to my grandmothers house. Mom understood why I needed to leave, why I needed to go so far so fast. All I needed to do now was get there.

I remembered Maine quite well, I used to spend summers there as a child. The fresh air was always a nice break from the California smog. Shoving my 'Purple Rain' cassette into the radio, I let my fingers roll over the volume dial as music filled the car. I cranked it up until I could no longer hear my thoughts, anything I could do to keep my mind off dad.