Still Brayleigh
I had left for the first two days unable to take the pain. I hadn't even taken a look at Mark. My body was tensed, I felt so stiff. I glanced over at Mark's parents, their eyes were bloodshot, cheeks tear stained. Sorry, Mark.
Imagining not being able to comfort your parents was unspeakable. Dylan wrapped his arms around me and pulled me closer to him. Tears rolled down my eyes, and my heart ached.
About a few hundred people coming from different states joined us.
As they buried him, Mark's youngest four year old cousin stepped forth, questioning, worry filled her eyes. "Hey, why are they burying Mark? He won't be able to tickle me under the ground! Stop!" she screams.
The people who weren't already crying now allowed tears to drip down their faces. "Stop it!" She screams, tears streaming down her face. Her mother wraps her and said shakily, "Mark... he... he is going to... sleep." That only made her scream louder, "No! I'm not a little kid, I know he has a house and a bed, he... he... he brought me there!" She wailed louder and her mother whispered solemnly, "Shush, you'll wake him."
I stared, completely speechless. The more I see her wail for Mark, the weaker my knees grew. I collapsed to the ground, I gave up on putting on my perfect daughter look, several people stared over but only caused a chain reaction of sobs, all repeating a hated, "Sorry for your lost." Which only made me scream inside.
The girl walked over. 'Don't cry," she consoled, trying to comfort me, "Mama wahi a Mark hiamoe wale nei." She tried telling me Mark would wake up soon. I stood, twisted my body and ran away, my tears rolling, my breathing hitched as I tried to keep up with running even though the sobs were taking half the air in my lungs. I yelled so loud Dylan almost got a heart attack when he caught up with me. He winced at me, eyes so pitiful. He lifted his hands and offered a hug. I wanted to return it but ended fainting in his arms.
Mark, you shouldn't be staying here anymore.
Dylan
"She will be fine, hypertension may have caused her to be in this state." The nurse told me.
"Will she be okay?" I asked
"Yes, but you need to look out for her, if this happens again, do not hesitate to bring her in." I nodded. "Can I go in now?" Now it was her turn to nod.
Bray was lying on the bed, back facing me. "How are you feeling?"
"Felt better before." I sighed, "I know, I'm here for you if you need me." She seemed to be mumbling to herself and she finally said, "Thanks, I'll be fine. When can I go?"
"Soon."
"Dylan, I love you." I was shocked. Did she knock her head? Is she okay? I think she may have mistakenly gotten a concussion.
"Are you okay?" She turned to look at me. "Ye." I replied, she looked stunning beautiful even though her face was red from crying. Her hair had grown noticeably thicker and longer which only made her hotter, piercing hazel eyes stared longingly for me to say what she want. "I love you too, and I know you already know that."
"No I don't." She exclaimed innocently.
"Don't play dumb!" I teased. Her expression flipped. Shit did I say something wrong?
Brayleigh
Recalling memories had become my type of panic attack, I would just drop out of the world. I could see Dylan's expression, but my brain drifted off, into another world. I recalled the night I stayed at Mark's.
"Our breakfast is ready!" I fished out a bacon, preparing a plate full of food for us to devour. "Mm your cooking is delicious." he said adding a dirty comment, "But I bet it's not as delicious as you." I blushed so much my cheeks hurt and I screamed, "Mark!"
"Yeah?"
"Don't play dumb." I had said the exact same thing Dylan just said.
"You can't blame me if I'm dumb." He shrugged. I loved it when he played dumb, we could have gotten an acting career together.
"Mark!" My laughter was so loud and sincere, it had filled the whole house, his house.
"Next time you call me dumb, I will make sure you never, ever, leave this house a virgin." Next time, eh? When will that be huh, Mark?
"Are you alright?" Dylan stared intently. "Ye, just... flashbacks."
The doctor came in and chased Dylan out. After a few scans, they told Dylan that I was fine to leave. I walked to the beach with Dylan tagging along as he scanned his phone for messages. I looked at mine, and I did some sort of shocked gasp, eyes turning glassy.
Mark had used my phone to take a picture of us under the streetlamp, and sent it to himself, my mum, and texted my mum to inform her that everything is fine and that I'm safe with him.
He had placed this picture as my phone wallpaper. I even remembered protesting and grumbling, crossing my arms, and puffing my cheeks in frustration. He chortled, "I love it when you do that cute, angry face. I should put that as my wallpaper."
He flashed his camera in front of my face and placed the photo as his wallpaper."See, that way you will always remember me and I won't miss you that bad."
Then, I couldn't help but grin, but now, I considered taking it down and placing something else, but it just doesn't feel right with anything, but us.
I picked up my pace, Dylan must have realized, because he shoved his phone back into his pocket, silently keeping up with my pace. I must have not noticed that I was soon running, because Dylan shouted, "Brayleigh! What are you doing? You are running like a bullet train! Wait up! Can you at least tell me what's wrong?" He placed a firm grip on my wrist. I tried to shrug it off, but I ended up being shot back into his chest. "What?"
"You promised to talk, and it's not like you to start running like this."
"Meh."
"Do you want me to start calling you hue hue?"
"NO."
"Then? Ole lo." Which meant speak.
"I can hear Mark talk, he comes to talk to me sometimes, even after his death, alright?" Alright? Not at all.