Prologue:
Gun shots fire and I flinch for a mere second. The sound pierces my ears and all I can think of is his face.
I wasn’t there to save him. I wasn’t there to know what happened. All that’s left is a memory, a memory for which haunts me, like an angry ghost keeping away people so he somewhat lives peaceful. But this isn't peaceful at all. It's the kind of haunting that happens when I’m afraid, the kind that manipulates my thoughts and makes me fear of ever recovering. It's the kind that makes Kenton appear in my dreams and then dies in it to make me afraid of moving on, to make me fear of ever closing my eyes.
Gazing downwards to the red roses in my hand, I sniffle, knowing that these are for him. When I lift my head back up, the eyes of dismay and depression look towards my way and without another thought, I stand and walk towards the coffin at the front.
I take small steps toward the casket, not wanting to believe that it’s his deathbed, even though I just want to get this over with. I feel like going back home and crying my way to sleep, hoping that I won’t have any nightmares like I’ve had before, like the ones of him dying in front of me. All I wish for is for this to be over, but I don’t want to be apart from Kenton, I want to be with him. I want us to be together and for this to never happen. If only he never died, if only there was a way he was still alive. If only this could be just some sick dream, making me think differently of what happened to him out there on the field. Maybe I just need to pinch myself so that I can wake up from this horrid nightmare?
But even I know that it won’t happen. I’ll still be here, I’ll still be crying and drinking and isolating myself from everyone else so no one can see me hurt, in an emotional pain that rots every single part of my body. It’s like it’ll never end, as if I’m supposed to be in this position where my fiancé just dies and leaves me to grieve.
Stopping in front of the coffin, I place the flowers on top of it, taking a small glance at the picture of Kenton. His brown eyes and bright blonde hair that is basically cut off, just brings sadness to my life because I miss those parts of him; and his smile brings happiness to me for a second, but it quickly fades once I realize it’s not just some picture to feel content over. It’s a picture that puts me in ruins, making me demolish my stature every time I think of his name. The photo does nothing but make me miss him more and more, like the man that’s within the picture just wants me to cry. No Raven—not here, I think.
I am unable to cry in public, it makes me feel like I shouldn’t, like I’m a coward trying to find attention within a crowd full of strangers. That is one reason why I isolate myself, especially leaving distance between me and my friends. Even though they know my pain, I can never feel like crying in front of them, it just seems wrong.
Before my body turns around to the crowd of people, my eyes meet Freddy’s, Kenton’s best friend as well as mine. “You okay?” he mouths.
I nod. My mouth can’t even form words at the moment, so what else can I do? He asks me an important question, even though he knows the answer, but I understand his act of kindness. It’s just the type of question that makes me feel like no one should ask, especially in my position.
The moment I glimpse at his outfit, the visions of terror rise in my mind and the only thing I can possibly think of is killing another person. My body shivers at the thought of it and I head back to my seat, ignoring those that stare at me.
What hurts as I walk down the aisle, is that I catch a small gaze at Kenton’s parents, who don’t do a single thing but look at me in disgust. They’ve always hated me, as I’ve noticed throughout my teenage years. I don’t know what it was, but I know that they have always thought that I wasn’t right for Kenton, and I may never have been.
One by one, other people who are friends or family of Kenton’s, takes their turn to put flowers upon his casket or say something in memory of him. And before it all ends, one of the soldiers comes by and gives me a fold up American flag and I hear them say something, but I don’t listen to it, as it’s probably one of those, “I’m sorry for your loss” type whispers. I don’t want to hear it at all. I just want this to be over with.
Touching the flag makes a chill go down my spine and all I can think about is him. It’s hard when the love of my life is gone and I feel like I don’t know what to do anymore.
*~*~*~*~*
Heading to my beetle convertible, Periwinkle stops me by holding onto my arm. I turn to look at my friend like she shouldn’t have done that. But by staring at her terrified facial expression, I relax myself, or at least try to. “Please. Don’t go home and drink yourself to oblivion, Ray. I won’t allow you to do that.”
“If you won’t allow me, why would I even think it?” I say sarcastically, like she said an idiotic thing, which in my case, she did. But I know she’s right, because ever since the day the condolence letter was in my palm, all I have ever spent my days with is a bottle of whiskey, trying to help myself forget about the events.
“You’re able to stay at my place,” she says like she still hasn’t gotten my sarcasm yet. “I just want you to be safe,” she quickly adds.
“Peri, I’m fine.” I lie, just about to grit my teeth together. Even though she’s my best friend, I just cannot stand the way Freddy, herself, and Jessie has been treating me. It isn’t like I’m going to go home and commit suicide, although it crosses my mind every now and then, but how they’re “telling” me to not do this or do that, makes me angry. Sure, I’m not fine, but why can’t I live my life the way I want to? Get drunk enough for me to forget the love of my life? Cut my wrists to see if Kenton would save me, maybe?
With her in the way of all of this, I don’t know if I should feel happy that she’s trying to be a good friend, or be even angrier that she doesn’t want me to do certain things.
“Raven, you’re not fine. Your fiancé just died from war, who would feel fine after that? After receiving a letter that Kenton died?”
“Peri, be quiet,” I whisper, not wanting to listen to her. To hear the agony I’m going through. I just don’t want to accept any of the facts.
“After this week has gone by, you’ve been nothing but a wreck. I don’t see how you’re able to lie to me when I know the pain you’re going through.” She continues on like she doesn’t even care.
“Shut up!” I screech, catching the attention of others around us. “He . . . he’s gone,” I begin with tears racing down my face. “Kenton is gone! Of course I’m a mess. The love of my life is gone and the worst thing about it . . . is that he died from some unknown thing that happened out there in Afghanistan! No one will tell me the cause of his death, and sometimes I wish to be told what he died from and other times I don’t know if I can take it. But he left, in thought to come but what happens? He dies!”
“Many good men died, Ray. You have to understand that it wasn’t just Kenton.” Freddy steps in, his face sour and he looks to be on the verge of breaking down, but I know that he won’t be like that.
“I do understand that, Freddy. But why did it have to be my fiancé? Why did he even have to leave me? That’s what I don’t understand. And what makes it worse, is that who the hell knows why there has to be war! Why can’t we all live in peace?”
They both look at me and each other as if they have no clue what else to say, like they’re talking to a mere child who has no clue what she has gotten herself into and they don’t know the punishment for her.
But Freddy begins to speak. “All we’re trying to do is help you and we understand the hardship of coping with depression. But you shouldn’t get all raddled up because we want what is best for you.” He puts a hand on my shoulder, his brows arches upwards.
But with my stubbornness, I just shake my head. “Ugh. Whatever, are we going to get Jessie or what?” I change the subject by getting out of his grip and heading towards the car with Periwinkle following suit.
Finally with both Periwinkle and I inside the vehicle and buckled up, she doesn’t stop staring at me.
“Oh. My. God! Why do you keep looking at me?” I screech, narrowing my eyes at her in an angry manner.
Instead of talking, she just hugs me.
“What was that for?” I ask, just a little calmer than what I began speaking to her with.
“To try and comfort you.”
“Thanks . . .” I trail off, starting the car. “I’m a bit sad that she wasn’t able to make it,” I say out of randomness, but Periwinkle knows who I’m talking about.
“She texted me saying that her boss wouldn’t allow her to have the day off.” She faces the windowpane next to her and watches the houses and trees go by as we head out onto the road.
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