Dear Diary

3. THE FUNERAL

Saturday, August 31st

G I O V A N N I

Sid's funeral is today. It's teetering on noon, so it'll start in about three hours.

Three hours until I say goodbye to her for good.

Fuck.

I'm in bed, bare chest rising and falling with each shaky breath I take as I stare up at my ceiling. A lot of time has been spent like this—lying here, letting painful thoughts consume me. One day turned into two and the next thing I know, I've blown off the entire first week of school, unable to gather my wits enough to go back.

That, and I feel like I'll pummel Brandan if I see his face again.

What I felt when I saw him earlier this week was that of something I've never experienced before. Too many emotions, and all of them came rushing to the surface the moment I laid eyes on that asshole.

Then there's Samara.

She had the nerve to side with him. Her take sounds reasonable in theory, but in the real world, Brandan being the last person seen with Sid is significant. It's estimated she was killed between eleven and twelve. Samara left before that, but Brandan was still with Sid then.

He had to be.

My chest tightens thinking about it. I don't know what to do with myself. But I should do something. Anything. Being within these walls, alone with my thoughts, is testing my damn sanity. I sit up with a huff and head to my closet, grabbing a white muscle shirt and pulling it on over my head.

I exit my room and announce, "Mama, I'm going out."

Mom walks out from the kitchen as I make it to the door. "Gio, wait. Are you going to school on Monday?" Her Brazilian accent is thick, unlike me. I wasn't born in Rio de Janeiro like my parents, which makes visiting there all the more meaningful because I get to feel closer to my roots. But I wouldn't have gone this time if it meant I could be here to protect Sid by some odd stroke of luck. "Your father and I know it's hard and we want you to have the time you need to grieve, but—"

"I'll go," I say.

She places a hand on my cheek, gentle to the touch. "You'll be okay, my son. You'll get closure today."

"We won't get that until her killer's caught."

"Maybe that's true, but be strong like you always are. Be there for your friends. I'm sure they miss you."

She's right if the myriad of unanswered calls and texts from them is anything to go by.

"Okay."

"Don't be out too long," she says. "You have to prepare for the funeral soon."

I nod and she gives me a parting hug before I open the door and step outside, locking it afterward. I normally wouldn't bother locking it, but now I feel the need to.

This town isn't safe anymore.

I wander the streets without a specific destination in mind. I simply need an escape from the bleak loneliness of my bedroom.

Everything looks so regular—a woman walking her dog; a group of laughing kids crossing the street on their bikes; a man watering his vibrant garden, giving me a pleasant nod as I pass by. I envy them. My world has completely flipped upside down, but the rest of the world is carrying on without a hitch. Sid meant nothing to these people, so they get to go on living their comfortable lives, happily watering their lawns with smiles on their faces.

They have no idea how tainted this town is now.

After a while, I'm on the street where the local church is located and where Sid's funeral will later be held. I take in the structure, all the way up to the steeple's highest point. It always felt so big in a small place like this. My parents used to bring me every Sunday until I grew old enough to decide I wasn't into organized religion. Nothing drastic happened, it just isn't for me. Seems like the right call on my part, though.