This Is England » Freddie Highmore

17.

                  RAIN POURED HARSHLY ONTO THE SOLID concrete ground as we stood in front of the funeral home; our eyes never leaving our feet as they rippled on top of the puddles. I squeezed Freddie's hand, turning to smile at him. He never turned to see my eyes, he just stood there; still recovering from his shocked state.

        Despite the fact that he and I barely started to date, I couldn't help but have an utter sense of sympathy for him. I knew nothing more than the fact he did drugs and was the leader of the most dangerous gang in all of England. I knew only that, and a part of his broken past.

        We began to walk inside once the thunder crept up above us. As we walked, it seemed like hours until we reached the depressing scene. Heads were bent down low, eyes never leaving the floor as they glanced at the reddened carpet. 

        I found myself to be out of place, the room was quiet except for the sound of family members weeping and the priest to be preaching about death, how it affects the heart and soul.

         Some family members went up to the podium and spoke, others paid respect in the realms of their minds. I had finished praying for Michael and once my eyes opened, I no longer had Freddie's larger hand laced with mine tightly. Instead, he stood in front of the audience, biting his lip as he had his hands placed onto the surface of the podium.

          When my eyes met the man up there, I found myself seeing a different person than the one I knew. The one who was an obnoxious bastard, who could care less about my deeds, who only cared about sexual contact, getting high, and who could care less about love. He never knew love, you can easily tell by his constant antics of negativity.

       The man in front of me had tears trailing down from his tearducts. His voice quivered with each and every breath he took. He would try and smile every now and then, but you can easily see through him and how he dealt with loss.

    
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            We now drove in his car, rain still pouring down and onto the car and windows. We spoke nothing, we didn't need to. The moment was glum; depressing and also a time where anyone could lash out at you.

    I couldn't fight it anymore, I had to ask.

   "Are you okay?" I bit my lip, hoping to not get smacked or strangled.

   Freddie sighed as he took a turn to an empty park. He stopped, sighed and ran a hand down his face over frustration.

   "I just lost my best friend, how do you think I feel?" he clenched his jaw. "He's gone, Amelia, he's fucking gone!"

   I wrapped my arms around him, embracing his much larger body as he weeped. I tightened my grip, kissing his cheek repeatedly.

    "It's going to be okay, he's in a better place, babe." I couldn't help but let my heart drop. He was broken, and I needed to fix him.

    He pulled back, his eyes dwelling with tears. He then rushed towards me; kissing me harshly as he then let go, resting his chin on my shoulder.

     "Thank you."

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