Homie

Dead and Gone

I looked up at the mirror and saw a girl I didn't know. I didn't see myself. All I could see was a fragile figure - I was an inch taller than most girls at my school, my makeup smudged and my lips swollen with red lipstick on them - and took the opportunity to pull my tights higher and my black dress lower, so that it rested just above my knee.

I grabbed my clutch and my suitcase, and I headed to my front door, ready to never come back to this house.

I parked my car in between all the other cars and all I saw were people carrying sad eyes or makeup stains on the cheeks. I guess people did love him after all.

I decided to stay put as I had gotten close enough to hear the preacher. Although I decided to not pay attention to what was being said by plugging my headphones and blaring a 3 Doors Down playlist.

I waited for everyone to leave so I could finally reach up to the coffin.

"Wait, please I forgot to do something!" I said to the person responsible to lower the coffin and top it with dirt.

I got as close as I could get and kneed down next to the body hidden inside the coffin. I sniffed a bit as a tear dropped to the sound of the song 'Here Without You' by the same band. As the drop left my cheek, the rose left my hand and at that moment I realized that I was incomplete.

I got up and a pang of guilt washed over me as I had swore to never cry in front of him again. He didn't want me to cry. I was going to be strong.

I realized that he wasn't going to be around anymore. I would miss him, everyone would, but I wouldn't take it as a bad thing, I was going to learn from this. I needed a change. I was going to change.

I needed to change my weak self and become strong for both of us. He left, and I was about to leave this place.

It was only when I boarded the plane that it hit me. I hated the truth, I hated this damn country. And I was going to leave. Just like he left me.

He is dead. And I am gone.