The Art of Grieving

Chapter 1

He's gone.

I can feel my head spinning with my thoughts yet my mind is so clouded at the same time. I can hear the sound of people talking to each other yet I can't quite make out what they're saying. But, it sounds happy. It sounds like people are jumping for joy that it's not them that died. How can they be so happy at a time like this? Do they not care? How can everybody just be fine with this?

My dad just. He just died... He just died. He's gone and he's never coming back. There is no magical spell or power that can bring him back. He's gone. I'm alone. I'm all alone... No, this can't be happening. This can't be real, this isn't real. This isn't real. This isn't real! I didn't even get to say goodbye. There was so much I wanted to say to him that I'll never be able to say now. I'll never be able to see him again or hear his voice or just take in his existence. He's all I had. It should have been me. Why couldn't it have been me? Why couldn't it have been me!!!?

I can now hear the voices becoming louder. I think they might be coming towards me. I can feel something wrapping around me. Suffocating me. I don't know whether the tightness in my throat is from the thing that is wrapped around me or from the thoughts racing through my mind. The thoughts that are just reminding me that he's never coming back. I can hear someone breathing heavily. I think it might be me. I just then realize just how tight my throat is and how fast my heart is racing. It's becoming harder and harder to breathe.

I need to escape. I need to get out of the thing wrapped around me and out of this town full of memories of him. Of his scent, his voice, and his over-protective yet so comforting demeanor. Before I can process anything else my body is breaking free from the tightness and my legs are moving in a motion that I think is running. I'm running away. .. I'm running away from all the lacrosse games he would come to even though I wouldn't get a second of actually playing on the field, away from all the nights I woke up crying and he comforted me, away from all the memories that I know if I stayed, I would cling onto.

Eventually, the pain of my aching legs overcome the loudness of my mind. I need to stop. So, I do. Then, I take in my surroundings. All I can see is woods and one very run-down gas station that somehow is still open and somehow has two cars parked there. My mind has seemed to have quieted down enough that the feeling of my body comes back into focus. Other than my aching legs, my stomach is growling. I need food. So, I take my tired legs and march them over to the run-down gas station.

As I enter, my eyes are clouded with the smoke from the cigarette the cashier is smoking. I try to ignore my now blurred eyes and head over to the snack aisle. There are nuts and bags of chips. I grab some cashews and a bag of barbecue chips. I then head back to the smoking cashier. On the way, I run into someone and drop the snacks I'm holding. We both mutter our sorrys and I reach for the fallen snacks. As I am coming back up I catch a glimpse of the person's face.

"Eli?"

"Stiles?"