Beau and Arrows (A Beau Brooks/Janoskians Story)

Buried Memories

A/N: Sorry, I had to reupload because it wouldn't work and cut off the first half of the chapter, for some reason ! :( Anyways, i really hope you enjoy, it's a little bit more intense this time, aha :D     -have a lovely day! :D 

It's hard to understand the pain that burying a loved one can cause. Not just the fact that they have passed, but watching them sink into the ground, never to rise again, never to breathe or walk and talk but to lie motionless in a coffin barely big enough to contain their body. That's what it was like for Paige, watching the priest moan on about facts about Sam. She almost felt like walking over and conducting the ceremony herself, it would have been a lot less painful. She felt the item she had to drop on top of the coffin- Paige's and Sam's commitment rings. They were shining 8 carrot diamond, sterling silver with white gold plates. They must have cost a fortune. “You're worth it though?” He had insisted.

She looked over at the boys, who were directly across from her. One of the boys, the quiet- looking one, was holding a soccer trophy. She was puzzled, she had never met him. She had met most of Sam's friends. Why did he have an item, if he wasn't close with Sam. She looked over to him, and he looked up at the same time. She he gave a cute, crooked half smile at her, and she smiled back, her whitened perfect pearly teeth flashing. Their eyes locked for a moment, before she looked away. She was terrified, of what could happen. She was stupid, an idiot. It was a funeral, for God's sake, her boyfriend's funeral! But she couldn't help herself, she glanced back up, but he was already looking down at his feet. She felt her heart almost sink into her stomach.

“Paige Arrows.” The priest called. Paige jolted her head up, shocked. He noticed, but continued. “Will place the commitment rings she exchanged with the spoken.” Paige nodded and stepped forward. She stood in front of the the hole in the ground before sinking to her knees, making sure not to expose anything. In turn, she raised each ring to her mouth and kissed it softly, so lightly it barely touched the skin of her full, wet lips. She closed her eyes and placed the rings on the top of the light wooden box in the centre of the wreath Sam's parents had put down. She then lifted herself back onto her feet and walked backwards to her parents.

“Are you OK honey?” Her father cooed softly. She nodded. Lie.

“Well then, you could have done it a bit more graceful. You looked like a right tart.” Her mother mocked, her tone vile and fierce. Paige looked down in shame. Her mother made her feel as if she had disgraced the family.

“Beau Brooks.” The priest called the next name on the list. Paige looked around, the name was obviously new to the rest of the crowd. The boy, the one she had locked eyes with held his item up, so everybody would recognise him. “With a soccer trophy.” Paige watched as he walked over, with such ease, and knelt on one knee before the hole, as if he was proposing. He carefully placed the trophy behind the rings and nodded to the crowd, before walking back to the position he had stood in.

The burial passed fairly smoothly, Paige was still having outbreaks of tears but she wasn't as bad, the main tears had been shed back when the speeches were brought out. These days, her eyes were never dry. If she'd collected her tears she'd probably be able to keep Africa with clean water for about 30 years. If they didn't mind it being salted with emotions.

The car ride was awkward and quiet on the way over to the bar, where the after party was held. After party was such a horrible way to describe it, like they were somehow celebrating his death. Disgusting. Her mother sat in the passenger seat, looking in the rearview mirror at Paige, who was nervously biting her nails. Her father was driving and singing to the radio under his breath. Paige had always joined in with him, but her heart wasn't in it anymore. It had been several weeks since she had sung carelessly to the radio.

“Paige, don't bite your nails and expect a manicure afterwards.” Angela hissed sharply.

“Honey.” Brian moaned softly, but as usual she took no notice of him.

“My boyfriend has just died, I can do what I want.” Paige said in a matter-of-factly voice, but as soon as she said it, her heart jumped into her throat. She knew what her mother would do. She blamed the insomnia for her tone. “Sorry.” She mumbled.

“Paige.” Her mother said in an uncaring tone. “He's dead. You need to get over it now. That's the last time I let you choose your own boyfriend.” She laughed lightly (which sounded more like a cackle to Paige), before looking over to Brian and expecting him to laugh as well, but his face remained still. “Life goes on, well, for some of us.” She said, cackling harder.

“I miss him mum.” Paige's voice broke again.

“Go join him then, it's not like we don't have another child.” Her mother laughed again.

“Cold hearted cow.” Paige muttered quietly. Not quiet enough, however, as her mother turned back and glared at her. The car stopped at the entrance of the bar and Paige jumped out of the car door before her father could continue driving.

“Paige!”

“Paige!”

Her mother's voice was cold and threatening. Her father's warm and pleading. But she couldn't do it any more, her family, her reputation, her loss, everything was building up. And it wouldn't get better, she feared it never did. She pushed past the group of boys who were standing at the entrance, almost knocking the one she remembered as 'Beau' to the floor. But she didn't stop to help. She carried on running, to the bathrooms at the other side of the bar. Tears streamed down her face as she ran, although she tried to conceal them. She ran into a cubicle, opening her bag so hastily the contents flew all over the floor. But she didn't care, she didn't stop to pick them up. She didn't have time, her mother would soon figure out her whereabouts. She had to get away, fast. And she knew exactly how, as she reached for the studded gold make-up case. She unzipped it, the razor blade falling down at her feet. She sat on the closed toilet, turning her wrist over so the softer, more vulnerable side was exposed. Taking a deep breath, she placed the razor blade on her wrist. She had only ever cut her thighs, a few weeks ago, and she knew this would hurt more. But it would all be over soon. As long as she could slice through a vein.

“Wait for me, Sam.” She whispered, looking up at the ceiling, calling her love.

She looked back down at her wrists, trying to concentrate. The first gash hurt a lot. She winced in pain, a scream escaping from her gritted teeth. She waited. Nothing. Feeling her wrist with the back on her thumb, she found a vein. Slowly, tears falling once more, she lowered the blade to her wrist. The main bathroom door flung open. She began to make the cut. Her mother had found her. She had to do it. But there was something holding her back. She heard a foot kick open all of the doors until it reached hers. Whoever it was, banged on the door. Blood began pouring out. It was over.

“Paige! I know what you're going to do. Please. Don't do it!” The voice was young, husky, and extremely low. She didn't recognise the voice, but whoever it was, made her drop the blade to the ground.