𝐛𝐚𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐞 (𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘭𝘦𝘴)

❛❛chapter thirty-two: condolences❜❜

❧December 17, 1963☙

Everyone was dressed in black, head to toe. Heads looking at the ground with grief. These poor people looked truly devastated to be here for the death of a friend. In front of me was a wooden casket that was surrounded by flowers. Each one of the flowers was set so delicately in place. The colors were vibrant beyond anything else in the room, especially the faces. I didn't want to step closer to the coffin, but I didn't really have a choice because John was on my side guiding me to it. I don't know if I could bear the sight of my love's cold, lifeless face. I knew it would hurt me more than anything, but I had to. I had to see him. My legs moved one foot in front of the other at a slow dreadful pace. As I got closer, I was able to see his mother's face more clearly now. Her black hair cascaded down from her head, curling sweetly. She wore a dress that I could imagine Jackie Kennedy in. Now that I think of it, she kind of looks like Jackie Kennedy. I also saw that she was crying softly but trying to hold herself together. I could relate to that pretty closely because, would you believe it, the same thing was happening to me. Tears seemed to just come out of my eyes without thought. I almost didn't even notice until the salt reached my mouth. The wetness traveled down my cheek and collected on my chin. From there, it would go down my neck, dampening my black trench coat that looked like a dress.

Anyway, people were coming up to her, offering their condolences. By Rose's side were her kids. Isaiah's older sister, Isobel, offered her mother a tissue, clearly just trying to distract herself from what was going on. Lil Kal's face was red, and his nose was running. And beside him was Percy. He was rubbing Kaleb's back, trying to give comfort. The sight made my heart tighten. Mark, his father, had his back straight, and his face was hard. Most men tended to try and seem all strong when bad things happen. It's their way of reassuring everyone that they're a big burly man who can go through anything, but it's all fake. It's an act. I knew that from John; he did the same thing. He learned that from his lousy childhood and having to hide his hurt from kids at school, who were ruthless. Too bad I can't stall any longer because we'd reached the coffin. I didn't want to look down, but something in me needed to. I just was scared if I saw his face, I'd break down crying. I didn't want to make a scene, especially in front of his family that was already having a hard enough time. Just look, it won't be bad. I shouldn't be bad, but it could be.

"Lizzie? You alright?" John whispered in my ear while rubbing my arm.

I looked at him for a second. Lennon had been on top of me ever since my minor balcony incident. He wouldn't let me be alone for a second, afraid I'd do something irrational again, which was fair. I didn't mind the company though, it actually helped me from getting too deep into my thoughts. Anyhow, he looked genuinely concerned about my well-being. The honest answer was no. I was dreading having to lay my eyes on my deceased boyfriend. It just wasn't very fair, now was it? Lennon gave me one reassuring squeeze, and that provided me a bit of confidence. Just enough to fill my urge to look down at Isaiah. My head slowly tilted down, and his face came into view. Right once I saw his pale grid, my stomach dropped. Well, there he is. He looked so peaceful in his is eternal golden slumber.

"Ash..." That was the only word that could leave my mouth.

I looked at his hair that was still its original dusty blonde color. The strands were slicked into a more dapper style than how he normally had it. It usually was kinda spikey and pushed upwards. He said he liked it better that way after I told him to keep it down like how the lads did theirs. His hair fits him greatly, though, so I was a bit sad to see they didn't style it his way. I could see him in the bathroom mirror running his hands through his hair with the gel while looking at me with the most loving glaze. His green eyes were always so striking, but alas, I can't see them right now. It probably would be weird if his eyes were open, to be fair. He was also in a black suit that looked particularly dashing on him. I never really got to see him in them because he was frequently wearing polos or sweater vests. He told me they were more comfortable and fashionable in the US. He was right too. I looked back up at his mouth and could remember the huge smile it always carried. I loved it so much, and now I'll miss it. I'll miss everything about him.