AllFreeNovel
Share Us
The next day, Scar was nowhere to be found. Seth explained that her mother had arrived and taken her back home.
Maybe it was for the best, but it didn't mean I had to like it.
NINE
SCAR, AGE 17
Ifeel my hand trembling uncontrollably, and the phone slips from my grip, hitting the floor with a loud clatter. Suddenly, my mother's anguished cries pierced through the tranquility of the room, causing me to freeze in shock and horror. A sense of helplessness washes over me as I struggle to regain my composure and make sense of the situation.
As I close my eyes and let my mind wander, a wave of memories from my childhood comes rushing back to me, each one more vivid than the last. I can still feel the cool breeze in my hair as Seth and I raced our bikes down the street, our laughter echoing through the neighborhood. I remember how he patiently crouched down to tie my shoelaces, his fingers deftly working the laces so I wouldn't trip and fall. I remember the way Seth's hand felt warm and reassuring in mine as we crossed busy intersections, his grip giving me the confidence to face whatever lay ahead. But in this moment, I wish it would help me navigate the emotional turmoil that awaits me.
"Seth is dead! Oh, my God, he's dead! My baby."
He's gone.
He's fucking gone.
This cannot be happening to our family.
I refuse to accept this.
"Babe, what's wrong?" my best friend Gemma asks.
My head is spinning.
I shut my eyes and let the tears flow as I settle my racing thoughts.
It's too loud inside my head.
Gemma's voice, full of panic, tries to pause the images that play on a loop in my head.When I open my eyes, Gemma stands before me with her hands on my shoulders.
"He's dead."
Two words come out of my mouth before my soul leaves my body, smashing to the ground, and everything goes dark.
TEN
TWO DAYS LATER (THE FUNERAL ARRANGEMENTS)
SCAR
Ispent most of the night tossing and turning, then waking up from a hot sweat, trying to keep the horrific sound of my mother's cries out of my head. Instead of bitching and groaning about going to school on a Monday morning like a typical teenager, I'm sitting in a funeral home planning my brother's memorial service. It is a cold and dreary day at the funeral home. The air is thick with sadness and grief, and the silence is only broken by the occasional sob or sniffle.
From the sound of Mom's quiet sobs to my father comforting my half-sister Skylar when he should be consoling the mother of the son they both lost, I am close to losing my shit.
"I am so sorry for your loss."
"Normally, we would ask the families if they wanted to take the clothing their loved one was found in, but given the state he was in…"
"Let's discuss the cremation process…"
"His body will be placed in a cardboard box. The body will be moved into the cremation chamber. The chamber is put at a certain temperature for the body to turn to ash…"
"The ashes are then swept into the container or urn the family chose."
Is she for real?
I am wondering how to plan the funeral director's death. Who the hell wants to hear how my brother's body is going to be burned to fucking ashes?
