Broken

Chapter 3

                                                                                               C ʜ ᴀ ᴘ ᴛ ᴇ ʀ ● T ʜ ʀ ᴇ ᴇ

A few days had come and gone. The funeral had come and gone. She couldn't think about it, she tried blocking it from her mind but she could still replay one thing in her head. The flag on the casket.

For that's all it was, a casket. She refused to believe Jack was in it. She knew that a casket could never hold the happiness, the laughs, the liveliness. But no matter how hard she tried, she could still feel that soft flag in her hands.

They – the officers – had placed the flag in a triangular glass frame for her, as if she'd want to set it up to look at. She'd actually done quite the opposite with it. Once she was home she had placed it in the hall closet, on the top shelf, and shut the door.

She did the same to all of the money.

Lacie felt dirty using any of the money. She would give every penny back in trade for Jack's life. That wasn't physically possible, of course, so the money only sat in the bank untouched.

She soon discovered that she needed finances though. Jack had been the only income but now she either needed to get a job or find some way to come up with money.

Later that day Lacie forced herself off the couch and out to town, to look for a well paying job. She wasn't really ready for just what happened though.

She went to a few places; the local diner, small grocery store and some general stores. Every single one she would ask for the manager, who would show up with pity in their eyes. News had, of course, already spread through the small town and pity was now rearing its ugly head.

Each manager would say the same thing to her.

“Honey, I'm so sorry about your loss, Jack was really loved in the community.” They would say in their slow southern drawl. “But maybe you should just rest for a while. You know, just until you get to feelin' alright.” And then they would give her a final pitying smile before going back to their work.

Lacie was way past frustrated at the end of the day. They all thought she was unstable. The whole community thought she was falling to pieces, which she was, but they had no right to reject her because of it.

She sighed once she got home and dropped her purse on the floor, next to her muddied boots. She needed money badly. If she didn't get a job somewhere then she was screwed. She needed to make the house payments on time or she was virtually homeless.

“Jack,” She folded in on herself, falling to the floor,“ Jack, why did you leave me?”

Sobs wracked her thin frame.

                                                            ● ● ●

Lacie woke a few hours later, still lying on the cold floor.

She picked herself up and glanced to the clock. Nine o'clock. She headed toward the bedroom to finish her rest there, putting the money problem at the back of her head til morning.

She made her way to the dresser and pulled out one of Jack's tees. Fighting back a sob she undressed and slipped into the shirt, letting it fall down to her knees. Climbing in the bed she cuddled into the blankets and buried her face in her shoulder. The shirt still had Jack's smell on it.

Lacie was reveling in the smell as she was sucked into a sweet memory of when her and Jack were just seventeen.