CHAPTER 1: I Thoroughly Dislike
I hate funerals.
No. Not hate. I promised myself that I'd stop using ha-that word, so let me rephrase. I thoroughly dislike funerals.
To be completely honest, I only decided this just now.
Before today, the only funeral that I'd ever attended was for my dog. . .I was only five. I remember my parents telling me that it was a way to honor her life, a way to say goodbye. Until today, that was my only view on funerals. A beautiful way to say goodbye to your lost loved ones. Maybe to some people, they still are, but not to me. Not anymore.
My Grandma assures me that over time, it gets easier. I suppose that I should believe her, she has lost a lot of family after all. I remember when I was little, she was always so happy. Her parents had died long before I was born, but she used to tell me stories about them all the time. It was like she had made peace with it. That all changed when her husband, my Grandpa, died of a stroke when I was seven. I didn't go to the funeral.
Skip to today and she is the last of her eight siblings, and of her childhood friends. In the past ten years, she has been to 12 funerals. Today however, that number jumps to 13.
Now back to my reasons for hating funerals. In my recently developed opinion, funerals are a sick, and cruel joke.
You're forced to stand in a cemetery, surrounded by the dead, all the while trying to focus on the life of the one you've lost. How does that make any sense?
As far as my strike on the word hate, I decided this three days ago. It has always been a word that I have thrown around so carelessly. I hate this book, I hate my hair. . . I hate you. It was rare that I ever meant it when I said it, but I still staid it all the same. Anyhow, she always told me that I should think before I just blurt it out, because one day, that could be the last thing that someone hears me say. I hate you.
I can feel the soft touch of my Aunt Marie's hand on my shoulder. I don't have to look at her to know what she needs to tell me. It's my turn to do what I never thought I'd have to.
It's my turn to say goodbye.
Without facing her, I nod my head and wipe my cheeks. As I walk towards the casket my one goal is to avoid eye contact with anyone and everyone. I know that if I look at them, all of my self-control will fade away and I'll be left with nothing but tears. They all expect me to do this. She expected me to do this, to give her a eulogy, but I don't know if I can.
When I finally make it to the head of the casket my eyes begin to water uncontrollably. There goes that self-control.
I can't bring myself to look down at her body. Deep down, I feel like I should, because this is my last chance to see her again, but I feel like she wouldn't want me, or anyone, to see her this way. She was so amazingly beautiful, and I don't want to remember her like this.
So here I stand. My eyes averted to the cloudy sky desperately trying to avoid staring down at my sister. My dead sister.
For a brief moment I turn my head to the small crowd of people behind me, searching some reassurance from my parents. My mom gives me a small smile before looking back at the ground as If it is the most interesting thing on the planet. Somehow I know that from now on, that's all our relationship will be. The occasional smile and nothing more. I look to my Dad, only to be greeted by a cold stare. We have never been close, but it still hurts to see his hatred towards me. Maybe I deserve it.
After my short yet horribly long glance at my dad, I've been convinced to proceed. I need to show him that I can do this.
Taking a deep breath, I take out the paper that holds my speech. My hands are shaking now. I've never quite been one for public speaking. For a moment I find myself scanning the crowd people in front of me. Some here today, are people that I haven't even met, but Bryn knew all of them. One way or another. They are all different in many ways, but they all have at least one thing in common. They all loved her.
It doesn't take me long to realize that I've been staring for way too long. I need to get this over with. Now.
"My sister, was driven by her faith in people. She made it her life's mission to find that part of someone, the part that no one else could see. She was determined to find the good, but what she didn't know, is that she was the good. Bryn was innocent, kind, and honest. Not once did I ever hear her say a bad thing about anyone. In her 14 years of life, Bryn was more mature and wise than any of us will ever be. I wish that could have seen that sooner, so that I could tell her how amazing she was.
I can't remember the last time I told her I loved her, but I can remember the last thing I said to her. I hate you. Those three words will haunt me forever. If I could go back, I would have done so many things differently, but it's too late now. All that's left to do is move on. Bryn is gone, and everything that she was went with her. All that's left is her memory. And that's the part of her that is left up to us to keep alive."
I pause for a moment to take a deep breath.
"- These past few days, have truly been the worst of my life. All I can think about was the fact that I didn't know how much pain she was going through. I guess that it is true that the ones who smile the brightest shed the most tears. Could you – Could I have saved her? I suppose I will never know, but I am certain, that that question will always be with me."
By the time I am finished, my eyes are clouded with tears. I did it, I stayed strong and I made it through the whole speech, yet somehow I feel like I still disappointed her.
Once again I look up at my Dad. He's not glaring anymore. Now his face reads a mixture of hate and depression. He loved Bryn. He hates me.
I take a small step back to wipe the tears from my face. Being the clumsy person that I am, I bump straight into our Priest, who was leading the ceremony. In doing so, I forcefully fall back onto something hard and inevitably land on something soft. I somehow manage to keep my eyes closed during the fall, but when I open them I am greeted with the cold, pale skin of my sister's face.
I can hear someone screaming. It's almost heartbreaking to listen to. After a moment, I realize that the deafening scream is echoing through my mouth.
I can feel someone's hands wrap around me, pulling me out from the inside of the casket. I can't hear anything. It's as if my ears have shut out everything around me. My eyes are clenched shut, refusing to open.
I think that I'm on someone's lap. I'm being rocked back and forth as though I'm a baby, which I'm not. I'm just a clumsy freak. Though it's only been a few seconds I feel like I've been sitting here for hours. I can't take this. I want to get up.
Slowly I begin to pick up on the sounds around me.
"Is she okay?"
"Does she need a doctor?"
"It's okay, Ashlyn. It's okay. You'll be okay."
I recognize the last voice as Jamie. She is a friend of the family.
We met her the day Bryn was born. She was only in high school then. Her boyfriend had gotten her pregnant, ditched her, and she ended up having to give up her baby. I remember how sad she was. My mom and her shared a room in the hospital and after that she just never went away. Her parents had kicked her out of the house and my mom and dad gave her a place to stay and paid her to babysit Bryn and I. She lived with for three years until she turned 19 and was able to find a place of her own. From then on, she has been more like a sister than a friend.
Eventually I find a will to open my eyes and take a look at my surroundings. As I predicted I am sitting in Jamie's lap and everyone is crowded around me, making me feel very claustrophobic.
I need to get out of here
"I need to get out of here" I whisper.
No one hears me. "I need to get out of here!" I yell.
I quickly jerk myself up and push my way through the blockade of people surrounding me. Once I make it through, I take off running to nowhere in particular. I am in a cemetery after all, where exactly can I go?
Eventually I settle myself at the bottom of a large oak tree. I notice a metal plate at it's base.
Kenna Rosaline Gardner
Daughter and Friend
June 10th 1922 – November 13th 1937
Whoever this person was, she was just a year older than Bryn when she died. How sad is that? 15, 14 years of life isn't enough. I don't know how Kenna died, but I hope that it wasn't in the way Bryn did. Suicide. I understand it, yet at the same time it makes no sense at all. She could have lived, but she decided not to. I don't know how I'm supposed to feel about that
Once again I begin to cry. I haven't really let myself get it all out yet. I've tried to stay strong for everyone, but it's just been so hard. It's my fault. I want to blame Bryn for deciding this, but it's my fault. I didn't figure it out in time, I didn't make it home in time. I was too late.
I hear a snap of a twig behind me. Instinctively I whip my head around and find myself face to face with Jamie. Once the sense of shock leaves my body I take a deep breath.
"Are you okay?" Jamie sits down next to me.
I let out a small sob masked laugh.
"Do you really need to ask that?" I gesture at my face.
She gives me a small smile and sighs.
"Do you want to talk about it? "Jamie asks me cautiously while placing her hand on my shoulder.
I shake my head.
"No. Yes. I don't know."
Jamie nods her head as if to day go ahead.
"I just- I feel like my mind can't escape from the moment I found her. It replays in a loop over and over. It's like my brain doesn't want me to move on, it doesn't want me to feel better. . . Maybe I don't deserve to."
Jamie interjects.
"Don't ever say that. Bryn chose this on her own. We should have noticed and stopped it before she got to this point, but there is no use in dwelling on that now. She's gone. You couldn't have saved her Ashlyn. None of us could."
I shake my head slightly.
"But what if I could have? What if. . . I am the reason she is dead?" I question without really thinking.
"I don't know what you mean. . ." Jamie responds in a confused tone.
"Never mind." I shouldn't have brought this up. She's not going to leave it alone now.
"No, Ashlyn. You don't get to do that. You can't just say something like that and then expect me to accept 'never mind' as an explanation. What, did you mean when you said this is your fault?" Confirming my prediction, Jamie questions me with a slightly aggravated tone.
"Jamie, please just leave it alone. I shouldn't have said anything. I'll tell you when I'm ready, just not now. Please." I plead with her as my voice begins to break. If I tell her, I have to relive it all over again. I'm not ready for that and I don't know if I ever will be.
I can see it in her face that she wants to keep pressing for the truth, but she seems to accept what I said. For now, anyways.
"Are you ready to go?" she asks me.
"No, but if I don't, my dad will personally place me in a toaster... Then I'll be toast, if that wasn't already clarified."
___
After our talk, Jamie drove me to my grandparent's house for the wake.
I thoroughly dislike wakes.
So far I've been here for about an hour and I already want to kill my- No.
Saying a phrase like that used to mean nothing to me, but now it means everything. My life, my families lives, everyone's lives mean something. I feel sick just thinking about the fact that I could ever joke about that. It's not funny.
Anyhow, I've been here for a little over an hour. I'm being forced to stand at the door and greet people against my will. Think of it as part of my punishment for causing a scene at the funeral. My father has always been one who can think up some pretty cruel and unusual punishments.
"I'm so sorry for your loss." My cousin Katie says with her hand on my shoulder.
You have no idea how much I want to rip that hand in half. At the beginning of the hour I was touched by the kindness of everyone who stopped to give condolences, but now I hate each and every one of them. They don't know how I feel. Don't get me wrong, I do appreciate the support, but I don't want it right now.
Presently all I want to do is lay in my room and watch stupid movies about a make-believe person, who has a stupidly perfect make-believe life. Those were Bryn's favorite.
Really the only plus to this gathering is the food. The gift of cooking runs in my family. It skipped a generation. I can boil water, and follow a simple recipe if need be, but it's never been my strong suit.
Funny how when you are trying not to think about something, you think about everything else instead. It's as if I'm narrating my life story in my head.
An intense stare from my Dad pulls me back into reality. The reality where my sister is dead and my Dad hates me.
When I finally turn to face him, his eyes are still planted on mine, narrowing themselves even further. I know that he wants me to come over to him. Probably so that I can receive the last of my punishment. Of course he'd do that now.
"Excuse me" I quickly say to the stranger to my right before heading to the direction of my Dad. I have a feeling that I'm going to regret this.
When I reach him, he grabs onto my arm, pulling me to a more private area. "I don't know what the hell that little stunt was that you pulled at the funeral, but it will not be tolerated and you better expect there to be consequences." He says in a hushed tone.
"Stunt? You think that I meant to do that? I couldn't even look at her, why on earth would I do that on purpose?" I counter at him.
"You hated your sister. You even said so during your little "Speech". You hated her and you're the reason that she's gone."
That hurt.
"That's not what I meant! I'm sorry that my stupid speech wasn't up to your standards, but I was just doing what she wanted me to. She didn't ask you, she didn't ask Mom, she asked me. So I did. You don't get to patronize me for that! I'm sorry that I didn't save her, but don't deserve to be reminded of it every day of the rest of my life." I yell back at him. Screw privacy.
"Don't you dare speak to me that way. You better shut your mouth and go back to the door where you won't bother anyone. We'll finish this conversation later."
I gape at him. "No we won't. I'm your daughter, but you're no longer my father." I turn away from him and start towards the door.
"No." I stop in my tracks and listen to what he has to say. For a moment, I think that he'll apologize. I was wrong.
"I had a daughter, but she's dead now. As far as I'm concerned, she was my only daughter."
I clench my fist before running straight out the door.
_
For the second time today, I find myself running.
I thoroughly dislike running.
As soon as I was out of the house I took off, speeding through town. Not stopping for anything... not even cars. Let's just say, I've never been honked at so many times in my life.
Unlike earlier today, I do know where I'm going. Home. I haven't been back since the day Bryn died. My parents couldn't bring themselves to come back here and neither could I.
On the way, I pass the clearing that Bryn and I used to build forts in. Well I did the building and Bryn did the decorating. I can't help but stop for a quick moment and stare. I can almost see her sitting on her little wooden stump painting the sticks that made up our fort. We were always stealing random things from Mom's craft room and bringing it here. I miss those times. Everything was so simple.
After what seems like forever, I make it home.
At first glance, this seems like a normal, beautiful home, built for a loving family. No one would ever know what happened here. But I do and I'll never be able to forget it.
With a deep breath, I open the front door and make my way through the house.
I come to a screeching halt when I reach the upstairs hallway. Her door, her annoyingly creaky door, is still wide open from the last time I was here. When I found her. I shake my head, desperately trying to escape from the memories that flood into my brain, but deep down I know I never will.
(Flashback)
"Bryn? I'm home! Sorry I'm late, Camie and I went to pick up some icecream. I brought you some!"
I trudge through the house, up to Bryn's room when I don't hear an answer.
"Oh come on, don't tell me you're still mad about what happened! I'm sorry, I was just upset. I pinky promise that I'll never use the word hate ever again."
I knock on her door and still don't hear an answer.
"Come on Bryn, open up!" Still no answer.
I turn the knob of the door and slowly creak it open. Gosh I hate the noise that this door makes.
"Bryn, are you even awa- Oh god" I open the door to see my sister sprawled across the floor, a bottle of pills lying next to her.
"Oh no. Oh no." I drop to the ground.
(Flashback over)
Tears stream down my face as the events from three days ago play over in my head. I know that I shouldn't, but I can't help myself from entering her room. Just as I predicted, I instantly regret it.
The pill bottle is still on the ground, along with her suicide note. I don't want to see this. I can't see this.
Much as I try, I can't bring myself to leave. I find myself examining her room. Her perfectly clean room. The walls are covered in paintings, all of them done by her. While I'm decent at drawing, Bryn was amazing at painting.
I sit myself down on her bed, allowing myself to take in the extent of my grief. She's gone and I'll never get to see her again. I'll never get to tell her that I love her. I'm about to leave when I spot her journal on her nightstand.
I can't help but put up a small smile. I bought her that journal last year for her birthday. It was a lame present, I know, but she used it every day. I pick it up and open it to the last entry.
June 12th 2017
Dear journal,
Today was worse than others. I thought the bullying would be done with after school ended, but I was wrong. They're everywhere. Cathy and Josey saw me at the mall yesterday with Ashlyn and when she went to the bathroom, they came up and started calling me names and doing all the other stuff they usually do at school. I wish they didn't affect me so much, but I can't really help it. I'm kind of done with life. I hope that things get better soon, because I don't know how much longer I can take this.
She was bullied.
I didn't know about it.
I should have known.
I knew that she was picked on sometimes, but I had no idea it was this bad. How could anyone be so sick that they could do this to her? I know who she was talking about in her journal. Cathy and Josey, both part of our schools popular group. There are six of them total, three boys and three girls. I've never personally met the girls, but I have met one of the boys. Dylan. I bumped into him one day on the way home from school and he was nice. That's what I thought anyway. I guess I was wrong.
And just like that, it hits me all over again. She's really gone. I slide my back against her wall until I'm seated on the floor. I stay like that for a while, though I eventually realize that I can't just stay here forever. So, gathering all the strength I have, I push myself to my feet and head over to my room.
_
I love my room.
I think that's the first positive thing I've thought all day.
The year before last, Bryn helped me decorate and paint the walls. Under all of my posters, there is a teal wall that you almost can't see. Almost every inch is covered in math and art.
In my freshman year of high school, I thoroughly disliked math. You know what? No. I hated math. Over time however, I've come to love it. So much so that I joined the mathletes. It may sound strange to other people, but math calms me down. It's the only thing in life that's always different, yet always stays the same. Once you understand it, there's nothing stopping you from solving it.
As for the art, they were all gifts from Bryn.
I try to find something to watch, but nothing really sounds appealing anymore. All the shows that I watch, are ones that I was supposed to finish with Bryn. I inevitably decide to put on something that I've never seen before. I forgot the name of it, but it has something to do with two vampire brothers and some girl they're fighting over. I hope this is a happy show.
As I'm trying to enjoy my new show, my phone is going off like crazy. I am completely aware of who it is, I just choose not to answer. I try my best to ignore it, but it just keeps beeping.
"Alright that's it" I say to myself.
I reach for my phone and check my notifications. 10 missed phone calls and 9 unread text messages. Some of which are from my best friend Camie. She couldn't attend the funeral because her parents practically dragged her away to her grandparents' house for the summer.
"Love you Ashlyn, I hope that you're doing okay"- Camie
"Get back to your Grandparents house right now!"- Dad
"You can't just run away from all your problems"- Dad
"You're grounded for life, you hear me?!"- Dad
"Ashlyn sweetheart, please come home and work things out with your father."- Mom
"This is your last warning. Come home now!"- Dad
"Your parents have been calling me nonstop. Are you okay?"- Camie
"Ashlyn this behavior is unacceptable."- Mom
"You can always call me if you need me. Night Ash."- Camie
I've decided that for tonight, I'm not answering any of them. I'll probably let Camie know I'm okay tomorrow morning. Now, my parents on the other hand, I'm not answering them at all. If they want to talk to me, they can come here themselves. It shouldn't take them long to figure out where I am.
I attempt to start my show again, but of course, the buzzing doesn't stop. So, I do the only logical thing I can think of. I throw my phone across the room. Let's just say, it did the trick.
Suddenly there is an overwhelming silence in the room. One that allows, and practically pushes me to think, which can be a very dangerous thing. I'm tired of thinking. I'm tired of everything.
I thoroughly dislike life.
AUTHORS NOTE:
Hello my awesomely awesome readers! That was me trying to make a cool first impression... Anyway, I really hope that you enjoyed the first chapter of my story. Next Chapter will pick up 3 months later on Ashlyn's first day of school. The plotline will pick up a whole lot more in chapter two. I know that this was a very long chapter, almost 4400 words long. I did that, because I honestly have no idea how long it will take me to write the next chapter. I'm the type of person who writes, rewrites, and rewrites again. I just can't seem to help myself. I'll try my very best to get it up as soon as possible. If you think you have seen my book on another account, it's because I used to have it up on my second account, but decided to restart it here. Please, tell me what you think of my book so far and if you have any pointers or suggestions feel free to leave them below:
Pointers/suggestions-
As a first chapter gift, here are some dots for you to "claim"
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
Don't forget to VOMMENT and COTE!