Love, Hate and the Line

Chapter 6

After watching some Netflix with my brothers, I went out for a walk. I'd already gone grocery shopping the day before so it wasn't neccessary for me to leave the safety and warmth of my home. Nevertheless, I was tired, too tired, and I needed some fresh air.

As I walked downtown, I realised that I might as well pick up David's prescribed medicine at the pharmacy while I was there. He had fallen down the stairs when he was three and the trauma had caused his pancreas to malfunction, resulting in a disease related to diabetes. Difference was, though, that if he didn't take his medicine, there was a good chance he'd die.

When he was diagnosed, they got him on a clinical trial, which had kept him safe for many years now. Sadly, the medicine he got in this trial, is still classified as experimental and our very basic health care package didn't cover this. It was one of the reasons that we had been having quite a bit of money problems lately.

I had been walking for some time, now, and as I crossed the street to the pharmacy I realised that there were no lights on, nor were there people. My stomach churned as I realised that it was past six, meaning the pharmacy was closed. Shit.

I scolded myself inwardly for being stupid enough to forget the time. I had been so peaceful, walking by myself, being by myself, and I hadn't been thinking clearly.

Sighing, I made my way back home. For some reason, though, my feet didn't lead me towards my house. I kept on walking where I should've turned left, not paying attention to where I was going. I knew, though, exactly where I was walking. I could tell precisely how many steps I'd have to take, where to turn right, where to take a shortcut and where not to if I didn't want to get harrassed by villainous rabbits. To be honest, I could walk this path blindfolded.

Turning left for the last time, I looked up, seeing the little church and the small churchyard filled with grey stones. The tears welling up in my eyes didn't allow me to see the stones in detail. I was glad they didn't. If they did, I'd read all the names. Mariska Peterson, loving daughter. 1997-2013. 1939-2001. Owen Mulridge, forever with us. 1914-1989. I could name every single person on this graveyard and probably give a detailed family history with it. Bethany L. Andmar, mother, sister and grandmother. 1899-1976. My eyes would continue to read countless more, before stopping at the one I came here for.

Rosalind Amelia McKenzie-Samuels. 1975-2009.

The tears were now flowing freely down my cheeks as I walked down to the graveyard, to my mother's pink tombstone.

"Mummy, why are there all the stones grey in here?" six year-old me asked, clamping to my mom's leg. "That's because people feel sad in this place, honey." I scrunched my nose. "Wouldn't some colour make them feel better?" My mom chuckled softly. "You're right, sweetheart, it would. Tell you what, if I end up here, I want my stone to be pink."

I began to shake violently, clutching my hands to my coat.

The two policemen at our door, their hats off and their heads bowed.

I tried crouching down but I fell to the ground when my knees gave in, my head resting on the marble.

"There has been an accident."

At this time, I was sobbing uncontrollably, my tears wetting my hair.

"Oxygen deprivation.. fetal distress.. acute hypothermia"

I couldn't help but admire the beautiful cliché when it started to rain.

"Cliché's are only cliché because people love them, honey."

My tears blended in with the rain and I shivered from the cold. I clutched to the headstone, being as close to my mother as I possibly could.

------------------------------------------
A/N

Hey guys, here it is! I know it's short, sad and without Ben, but this is important for the storyline.

If someone could explain to me how I dedicate a chapter in the iPhone app, I soon will.

Next update will be soon.

Please don't be a silent reader and vote, comment and/or fan. I need your help guys, keep me motivated.

Love,

M