FAMOUS LAST WORDS AND LIES
I'll see you later.
Those words held no significance to anyone who didn't understand. To anyone who didn't know. They were the words you said when you promised to see someone again, without making it sound like you're that annoying clingy friend who needs to live their own life. They're the words you say when leaving someone behind, but knowing that you'll cross paths sooner or later.
These words held massive significance to Ebony. They meant everything to her, and she had analysed them hundreds of times over in her head in each waking moment. The four words haunted her nights, forcing her eyes wide open, and making her brain be on high alert. She never thought one sentence of such simplicity could mean so much to one human being, could be the lifeline that keeps them hanging on by their jagged fingernails from the cliff they're about to fall from.
I'll see you later.
The missing posters went up a week after she left.
I'll see you later.
It was the promise of seeing her face again that kept her going through the weeks of dull, mundane duties. Ebony would sleep with her phone cuddled to her chest, in hopes that if she cradled it close enough, she would know that her friend was okay, and that her friend wouldn't forget to reply to the string of texts that had long blocked up their conversation. It was the faith that her friend would notice the voice mails she left when she once again didn't pick up the phone, and instantly call Ebony back with excuses that Ebony knew she would forgive the moment her angelic voice hit her ears.
Sometimes, Ebony only called just to hear the voice message, so she couldn't forget the sweet melody that was her friends voice. Her vocals reminded her of a goddess.
Yet, with each call, the familiarity of the voice became less, until Ebony felt like a distant stranger accidentally phoning the wrong number. No matter how many hours she spent drinking in the details of the photos she had of her, she could no longer picture her friends radiant smile that seemed to light up the room, more powerful than any sun.
I'll see you later.
Those syllables drove Ebony crazy, tearing her hair out each time her friend didn't call up, text, Skype, FaceTime, email or send some crappy postcard from a crappy town. She slowly lost interest in the things that gave her great joy months ago; her Monopoly board gathered dust, her fan-fiction aged but didn't grow and her bookcase sagged. She just moved through life, already dead.
Three weeks after her being declared missing, Ebony ripped the posters down.
I'll see you later - the famous last words, and lies, of Celeste Middleton.
*
She didn't cry at the funeral. People stared at her concerned and wary, wondering why her best friend didn't even shed one tear or let out a tiny whimper. Ebony didn't believe in funerals; she thought of them as pointless and a way for people to make money pour out of your bank account at almost the same rate as the tears. She hated the fact that people wept over a coffin with nothing inside, just crying over a symbol that represented her long dead friend. Ebony didn't want symbols - she just wanted her friend back.
She stood like stone, glaring straight ahead at the statue of Jesus hanging above them all, condescending, a constant reminder that there are greater things than human life, and that they can't control everything. Ebony disliked it. A lot.
When it was time for her to stand at the lectern and talk about Celeste, her voice was monotone, void of emotion. It projected across the silent room, invoking sniffles among the people who had even bothered to show up. Like many other things about funerals, she didn't understand why people felt the need to speak of the dead to release any pent up feeling they may have. It seemed pointless, and selfishness refrained her from telling the funnier tales, like the time the two went to a bar, and when a witch like woman had approached them to dance. They both exchanged a nervous look and for the entirety of that night, they had to pretend to be a couple, being ridiculously cheesy and cliché, just to avoid the woman who's hawk gaze never left them. It was hilarious, and Ebony had a small taste of what it'd be like to date the girl she'd been pining over the moment her eyes laid upon her.
She had to resist the urge to tell everyone how they met: a hunt gone wrong had left Celeste greatly injured, but being the bad ass she was, she managed to harm the monster. It had been a momentous occasion for them both, and Ebony feared what her life would've become if she didn't encounter the nerdy girl. But, Celeste had left her life, and it soon became too easy to imagine an existence without Celeste. It was reality.
So, she kept these memories to herself, treasuring them for the nights where the apartment felt particularly lonely and her eyes never fell off the door with the squeaky hinges across the hall. Like the other speakers, she droned on about what a good person Celeste was, saying how she didn't deserve what happened and she'll be missed. That was all true, but she had skimmed over the facts, mainly focusing her speech on emotion to see which long distant cousin would cry the most. It was the only thing that kept her going through the day, other than the Green Lantern ring that Celeste had given her after winning it at a carnival. Even that was barely enough to keep her on the brink of 'okay'.
The service ended, and everyone dispersed, already forgetting about the body-less dead girl with her name on a gravestone too soon. It seemed surreal; Ebony thought the day Celeste's name would be engraved in granite would have been so far in the future even God wouldn't know. That's the thing about love - we're too blinded by the beauty of it that we forget that it will soon be demolished by the brutal circle of life.
Ebony sighed, eyes cast down at the freshly disturbed dirt. There was no comfort in being by her grave, it only added salt to the wound she knew would never heal. Yet she still went everyday, regardless of whether or not her shift at the book store demanded her duties elsewhere. She dropped everything, all to stay by her side all the time.
"You paying your respects?" A voice made her jump out of her skin, snapping her solemn gaze to the lanky man swaying before her, bottle of liquor clenched in his hand. She only nodded her head, disinterested by the drunken man. If anything, she was irked at the fact that he would disrespect the dead by swigging down a bottle of vodka. A slight nudge on her shoulder made all of her muscles tense, and she spun around the see the man offering his bottle towards her. "You look like you need a drink."
"No thanks, my liver would rather not." Her voice was cracked, just like her heart.
He shrugged, collapsing to the ground and crossing his legs. "Suit yourself."
Awkwardly, she shifted on her feet, crossing her fingers that he'd leave. Minutes passed, and Ebony's patience was waning. The only thing to be heard was the mans lips smacking together as he savoured the bitter depressant. Her teeth set on edge at the sound, grinding back and forth. "If you're here to drown your sorrows, the pub is back that way," she pointed angrily behind her, shoving her shaking hands in her pockets.
He took another swig, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down greedily. Taking his time, he finished the bottle, removing it from his chapped lips with a smack and letting out a satisfactory sigh. "I'm here to visit you."
She froze. "You do realise that mixing drugs and alcohol can kill you, right?"
"I wish I was high, but that shit is expensive." He snorted at his joke, wiping furiously at his nose.
Ebony kept her mouth shut, hands finding the familiar cold metal, tracing the pentagram etched into the side.
"As much as I'd love to tell you all of my funny, drug related jokes, I'm here to tell you something." Her pulse increased rapidly, and she knew that being in a desolate graveyard in the middle of the day with a wino who may or may not have a drug addiction wouldn't go well. Acting casual, she turned her head side to side, disappointed to only see trees blossoming and graves in varying states of erosion. There were no other people there.
She decided to play along, her words drowning out the click of guns safety. "And what is it you desperately needed to tell me?"
"I knew Celeste, a long while back." He stopped, eyes finding her name on the grave. "She was a great gal, I'll tell you that. Knew how to throw a party." A small smile graced his lips, and he didn't seem so scary any more. She found herself feeling a strange connection to him - he knew this girl, and was seeming to have trouble coping with it, like her. Despite feeling herself weaken at her name, she furrowed her eyebrows. Celeste wasn't the type to throw a party, and if she did, she never mentioned her wild past to Ebony. What reason could he have to lie? After a minute of consideration, she came to the conclusion that the man was telling the truth, as she couldn't think of an ulterior motive.
Hesitantly, she focused all of her attention on the man. "What does this have to do with me?"
"I know you were in love with her." Her heart halted. "Anybody could see it."
"Except from her," Ebony muttered bitterly, lightly dragging her foot back and forth along the dirt.
He ignored her comment, and continued slurring on. "I figured you'd like a little bit of revenge."
Her ears perked up, and a tiny smirk found it's way onto her lips. Normally, she thought revenge was pointless and gave someone no reward; this wasn't normal circumstances. "Go on."
"I know who killed your friend."
"Who?" Her tone was eager, and she no longer was clenching onto the weapon. Her feet had taken her closer to the man without her realising, and she could smell the sour stench of vomit and alcohol, with a hint of sweat.
"The most famous hunters in all the land, they gave this little missy a phone call and she went on a road trip. They have a habit of doing that, roping in people who shouldn't get involved."
"Who?" She demanded, hand once again curling around her protection.
"Think about it sweetheart, I know you have a brain in that cute head of yours."
She said nothing - she'd left hunting a few months ago and hadn't heard anything since. Even when she was hunting, she didn't pay attention to the gossip, only hearing tiny snippets about two boys who always somehow screwed the world up and managed to fix it again with peeling sticky tape.
"Your lover, was killed by the Winchesters."
Involuntarily, she let out a gasp. He sniggered at her reaction, and waved his empty bottle at her. "Not just some crazy drunk, am I now?"
"How can I trust you?" Ebony nibbled on her bottom lip, feeling the tangy taste of blood fill her mouth. "How do I know that you're not lying? And how do you know for certain if she's dead?"
"I was right, you are a very smart girl," he leered, his breath carrying the stagnant stench of alcohol mixed with tooth decay. She no longer felt comfortable around him. "I have friends in high places."
"Like I can believe the word of a wino." Ebony huffed, turning around and beginning to leave. The gravel beneath her feet crunched mercilessly, sending cracks into the tense atmosphere.
"Even if I'm wrong, you'll be doing the world a favour!"
Ebony paused, twisting her head around and questioned loudly. "They killed Celeste?"
"They placed the gun to her head," he mimicked a gun with his hand, "And someone else pulled the trigger." He blew away at the imaginary smoke of the gun he'd made out of his hand. She repressed the urge to shudder - he looked crazy.
His words rang in her head - did they deserve to die for this? They had put her in a position where death was inevitable, and they knew that anyone who was friends with them died. So why would they put her in danger like that?
Because they're selfish, callous human beings.
"Looks like the world will owe me one soon enough." The drunk grinned, exposing his vandalised teeth. He lifted his bottle to her.
"Mankind salutes you."
She turned away from him, walking to her apartment with the full intent on mourning her friend. As much as she wanted to complete the mission, she needed to flush her body of the fresh grief before allowing ageing anger to possess her intentions.
Ebony ignored the bad feeling lingering in her gut.