Death Diaries || A Dork Diaries Fanfiction ☑️

Entry 35

Disclaimer: The Dork Diaries series is owned solely by Rachel Renée Russell. This is only a fanfiction -a new take on the books, made for the purpose of entertainment and self-expression. I do not wish to offend anyone, including the author and readers of the book.

Cautionary: This story may be gruesome, appalling, or disturbing to some audiences. Please read at your own discretion.

Precious (pt. 2)

Days later, I realized the crowd has dispersed and the people's angry, disgusted gazes turned into those of pity. I longed for the day when their hatred for the biggest mistake of my life to dispell, but never in this way. I would have chosen to live with their loathing any day if that meant having Brie with us.

When I walked into the room, looks of sympathy shot at me from every corner. I'm not the only one who has just lost someone important to us in this building. I knew they knew, they always did, beginning from the first moment my life was broadcasted on television.

Acquitted murder suspect Nicole Maxwell loses child after protesters attack home.

"We can take them to court, sue them with trespassing and homicide," Felix spat out angrily as he paced around my hospital room. He came in carrying folders with files that he said we could use once those people were identified.

Brandon rubbed my back up and down as I continued to cry. "Felix, we appreciate your efforts but now isn't the time. We're in a really dark plac—"

"I don't want to sue them or anyone," I interjected. "All I want to do is to give our baby a peaceful burial. No more protesters. No more trials. No more pent-up anger. She deserved that from us and from the people for cutting her life too short."

I never imagined myself to be filling up papers for my own daughter's funeral. I always thought it would be the other way around, where she would fill this up after nature took it's course and brought us to a better place.

I held her only twice: once when she came out blue and once when I had to say goodbye. I thought I would have the chance to smother her with countless kisses, instead I could painfully count the kisses I gave her in that one hour we had with her. I showered her with uncountable tears, tears.

When my bulging belly, I dreamt of hearing my baby cry during birth, see the first walk, hear the first word, just milestone after milestone —and never this.

A parents greatest fear is seeing the death of their own child. I felt that now, I hate that I had to feel that now. I didn't even get the chance to show her how loved she was.

Why did it have to happen to her? She was innocent, too innocent to be caught up in all this mess.

Instead of choosing from an array of dresses and bows, I'm choosing a casket and a funeral gown. I always thought I'd make a choice between several schools and a venue for her birthday party but now I'm looking for a place for her wake and her final resting place.

"Jesus loves children—" the priest began his sermon. I have never been a religious person and probably will never be but I believe He exists. There is a kind of hope spiritually could give to grieving hearts. "As we mourn the loss of Brie Hope—" he continued to fade into the background as I scan all the people who were here.

Our friends arrived with flowers, food, and comfort. Brandon got pats from the guys and I didn't miss to see him smile even just a little bit, his lips curved upward.

Meanwhile, the girls crushed me with hugs as we cried together. Chloe was quiet and I appreciated that, although I love how she always speaks her mind, the noises of chattering from the people around and their 'sorry for your loss' and 'condolence' were already too much for me.

A part of me doesn't want to accept reality. A part of me believes they don't mean it. A part of me blames myself for Brie's death.

Chloe let me cry over her shoulder as Zoey, who stood behind me, rubbed and patted my back. Like Chloe, she was quiet too —no written lines, no quotes from various people. There were only the sounds of my soft gasping and the warmth my friends provided —that have blocked everything else. Violet also came, she sat beside me with one hand on my knee, her thumb rubbing up and down the bend.

Marcy helped handle the guests and made sure I ate while visitors came. Some people I recognize, I went to school with them. The others, I don't even know. It's safe to assume they heard it from the news.

I had to clench my fingers and force myself to stay still when one woman flashed me an apologetic smile. I saw her outside my house that day and I can't help but feel the anger boil within me, but one look at my resting baby girl, I remember —no more hatred, no more pent-up anger. So when she approached me, I told her.

"Anger cannot begin to describe what I feel for you right now but I know hurting my baby wasn't what you intended to happen. I hope you understand if I cannot welcome you here right now." I watched her nod in understanding and walked away without saying anything more.

I feel a hand squeeze my shoulder before I turned around to meet Brandon's warm smile. He held my face and kissed me on the forehead, he was proud, I knew it and I felt it.

And as we watched her casket being lowered into the ground, we cried. "Goodbye, our little angel."