No Surrender | Eddie Munson

Chapter Thirty-Eight: Ashes to Ashes

CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT: ASHES TO ASHES

I'll carry the reminder and I'll carry you home
If you let go of the burdens you have ever known
They've found peace now
As have you
Please go gently into that night

——————

The day finally comes.

I know I won't be able to force myself out of bed so I stay up all night, blasting Eddie's mixtape over and over until I'm worried I might grow sick of it. The cabin has been cleaned and rearranged more times than I can count and by the time Eleven is out of bed, I must have baked at least a dozen batches of cookies and cakes for a wake that I don't even want to go to.

The others come to meet us before heading to the cemetery. Eddie stays hidden away at the back for most of it and they don't even see he's there. I can still hear their chattering when I retreat back into my room.

I don't do anything for a while. There is nothing to ease my nerves. So I just sit at my dressing table and attempt to hide my dark circles. The swelling in my nose and eye has cleared up almost entirely and is now blotches with the yellow of faded bruises. I don't look quite as damaged anymore.

A gentle knock puts me on guard again. I greet Joyce with the most convincing smile I can manage. "Hey."

"Hi, Honey. Mind if I join you?"

I nod. The bed creaks a little as she sits. Not a word is spoken for some time. We remain in the silence, both clearly preferring it to the small talk the others use to ease the situation.

She places a hand on my shoulder but I shrink away, quickly pretending that it was just to zip up my boots. "He told me. Don't know if he ever mentioned it but he told me the truth."

"Okay."

"And I meant to tell you sooner but it never seemed like the right time to say... your mother's been invited."

I hesitate. "Okay."

Of course, it isn't okay. It's far from okay. It's beyond stupid. If she sees me, she might recognise me. I can't deal with explaining any of this to her.

It seems odd that it's my reaction. At least a part of me should be relieved or nervous. After all, this is the first time I'll be seeing her since I died. I have to remind myself that I'm not Sara, that it'll just be a disappointment if I get my hopes up.

She starts to stand and I hurriedly turn, cursing my hastiness. "Joyce, can I ask you something?"

Pausing, she slowly sits back down. "Of course, Honey. What is it?"

"Do you ever—" I wince and try to distract myself for a moment by turning the wicker chair to face her. "Do you ever worry... you know, with Jonathan and Will that you're gonna— that you're gonna... mess it up?"

Her smile is sympathetic, like she immediately understands. "All the time," she replies with a sad smile. "It's totally normal to worry but it's just that — worry."

I don't feel any better. "But what if it's true? I've been caring for people most of my life, I thought I could do it, but then I'll get annoyed or I'll just totally ignore her sometimes and I don't mean to — really, I don't — but I can't stop it. I can't even stay present most of the time, my head just gets all fuzzy. And I can feel her... all the time. She just— She feels too much sometimes and I can't ignore it. Sometimes I get these dreams of her getting hurt or— or... you know, and every single time it's my fault. I caused it. What if living with me just screws her up even more?"